The Jumper Diaries
by blackshadow111
Summary: Before he arrived in HP, the jumper traversed many universe. One of them was the Originals/VD universe. Follow an immature, far-too-powerful, amoral bastard across a millennia long power trip as he rips any semblance of canon apart in his quest for shinies, powers, and...well, you can guess that one. My first, extremely crude NSFW work, so tread lightly.
1. Chapter 1

**Build:**

 **Grand Adventure Challenge**

I wanna be the very best +1000  
Ruler of the World +1000

 **Origin:** Witch-300

 **Perks**

Ad hoc Magic  
Witchcraft  
Witchy Talents  
Great Lineage-200  
Compulsion  
Master of the Mind-600  
Mental Fortitude-300  
Bad Bad boy-100  
Ancient -600  
Siphoning-300  
Power of the Firstborn-300  
Greatest Witch Ever-600  
Original Hybrid-600  
Magic Resistance-600  
True Immortal-800

 **Item**

Quality Drinksx2-100  
Very Richx4-400  
Grimoire of grimoires-300

 **Drawbacks**

Plot Sense  
Curse of sun and moon  
The Brotherhood's Prey  
Finn wants to kill you  
The burdens of Immortality  
Thematically Appropriate

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **Chapter 1**

 **1001 AD**

 **Somewhere in North America**

I watch dispassionately, as the young blond man who was my only true brother walked through the village with a corpse in his arms, crying out for our mother over and over in his anguish.

I could have prevented this. All it would have taken would have been a few words, spoken at the right time, the right incentives. But I hadn't. For me to live forever, Henrik had to die. That had never been in doubt. But it still _hurt_. Despite my best attempts, I had grown close to the brat, come to like his antics.

Shaking my head to clear away the sudden rush of sentiment, I nod once in grim, resigned satisfaction, before adopting an expression of utter grief and disbelief, speeding to Klaus's side as he set down the body.

"What is this, Niklaus? What…how?"

"We…the wolves… I'm sorry!"

It was at this point our mother came running, followed by Elijah. As they descended upon Henrik and Klaus, I stepped back, turning away, slightly.

 _This was a needful thing._ I remind myself over and over.

But why then, does it feel so… hollow?

In any case, the die is cast now. I need to prepare.

Over the last several years, I managed to hide my Siphoner power from Esther and Ayana, all the while copying their spells from their grimoires one at a time. Ayana's protection curses only served to feed the spells I cast to accelerate the process, copying out pages sheaf at a time. I'm almost completely done, even if some few things need still be done.

Oh well. I will be done soon enough. The time is nearly upon us, after all.

The days after Henrik's death pass quickly enough, even with the pall that hangs around the village now. Everyone knows something is coming, even the wolves.

And it comes soon enough. Barely have I buried the last of the branches I hacked off from the White Oak tree that we are told that it is time

.

XXXXXXXXXXX

I come back to life suddenly, breathing deeply and sitting up all of a sudden.

"Drink." My father commands, shoving the already bleeding arm of a girl at the village at me. I probably would have retorted with something clever, had the time been different, but all of a sudden, the smell of her blood hits me…and, well, that, as they say, is that.

I come to several seconds later, the dry, lifeless husk of the girl still clutched in my arms.

Aaand I'm screwed. The next full moon…well, that doesn't bear thinking about. I know the drawbacks I picked, after all.

Instead, I focus on the positives. Turning my senses upon myself, I feel myself out, testing the absolute _strength_ in my limbs. Ah… I missed this. The feeling that one could take on the world…I can probably flip a tank with one arm, such is my power now. But that pales in comparison to what I sense within me. As my senses reach deep, it hits me like a blast, the immense, vast well of magical power running through my veins.

Ah… this is what it feels like to be a Hybrid who is also an Immortal. I revel in my power, luxuriating in how it feels…until abruptly, suddenly, I feel it cut off.

What the fu…ah. Not at full power yet, werewolf side will only wake up at the full moon. This was more like…a bleed-through.

Oh well.

The next few days go by almost too quickly to notice, as me and my family start to get a handle at our thirst. The White Oak tree burns, leaving me with my buried branches the only owner of any of the deadly wood apart from my 'father'.

And then the day I have been half-dreading and half anticipating arrives.

The transformation _hurts_. It's not for nothing, that they say that you break every single bone in your body during it, and even as Niklaus cries out for our family, I bear it in silence, holding on to consciousness with a dogged persistence.

Well…I _try_ to.

Later, when I wake up cross-tied, I learn it was Finn who did it to me, who tattled and then tied me up for our parents.

I look to my side, to see Elijah and Mikael tie up Nikalus.

"Don't do it, father! Please, I'm begging you!" I cry out, trying to eke out any hint of sentiment from the man who had considered me his absolute favourite until a few hours ago.

"You're no son of mine, abomination!" he snarls out. I turn my voice upon Elijah then

"Please, Elijah. Why are you doing this? Aren't we family?"

Elijah looks down, examining the ground even as he continues to hold Klaus.

It's Finn's voice the interrupts me then, cutting through the night like a knife through butter. "Give up, Neri. All this time you were too good for us, too superior, and now you want our help?"

I hang my head. Of course.

Even as I feel the curse settle upon me, locking away everything from me apart from my vampirism…I make a resolve. They will die. For this humiliation, all three of them will die in pain.

And then my world is subsumed in agony.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Always and Forever" they repeat, looking each other in the eyes. God, it's so fucking _sappy._

"How cute. Maybe you'll sing carols next, brothers?"

"Neri." Elijah notes.

"Hello, Elijah. I must say, it is nice to see you can have interactions with siblings other than sacrificing them on the altar."

"Brother…"

But Klaus is opening his mouth. I turn slightly, focusing on him. "Come now, Neri. Let bygones be bygones. We are all that any of us has, are we not?"

I make a show out of considering his words, weighing them…

"I think not, Niklaus. The three of you are free to go on with this 'Always and Forever' rubbish of yours, but I think I need at least a few centuries alone. I have a great deal to do, and now, with my magic gone…perhaps there will even be a challenge in the world.

Who knows?"

Niklaus steps closer at this, no doubt about to try and convince me.

I raise my hand. "No, brother. I have made up my mind. We shall meet again, in time. And really, now, with this blessing of ours…what is time to us?"

"I suppose so." He says, more than a bit surly.

"Well then, I take my leave. Have a nice life, little girl." I say to Rebekah, before departing with my full speed.

Whether or not we actually _will_ meet again is not a question I care to pose to myself.

They are nothing to me. Not good people, not my friends, and most certainly not my family, and when the time comes I will laugh as the last of them dies. Maybe not the little girl, though...no. She becomes a bitch.

But for now, for the sake of the timeline and for Elena Gilbert to be born when she's supposed to, they survive. For now.

Maybe I'll even convince myself if I repeat this often enough.

XXXXXXXXXXX

 **France, 1114 AD**

I watch, silently, as the three vampires are chopped up into pieces by my compelled humans, being completely unable to resist as one by one, each piece is placed in a separate pile of burning wood.

Even Aurora, as pretty as she is, holds the potential to grow into an immensely potent threat in the future, and that is something I will not abide. For that, these three needed to die, and so they have.

I started tracking them nearly an year ago, aware that this was about the time when their compulsions would break, and I was right. They awoke to their true selves only an hour or so ago, but that had been enough. Three broken necks, the rest to be done by humans with axes…simple, clean, efficient.

"It is done, my lord. The last of the pieces burn" the man standing close to me says, gesturing towards the burning piles. Eighteen piles, six for each of them…yes, that is some thorough dead-ness. That should do.

"Very well. Kill yourselves, all of you." I tell them as one last command, before turning about and leaving.

With that taken care of, I have people to get back to.

It takes me several days of travelling to get back to where my ships are docked, and a few hours to make an inspection. Just as a formality, though, I turn to the vampire in charge of the operation.

"Is it done?"

"Yes, lord. We placed the last of them in the ships only a few hours ago."

"With the utmost care, I hope, as you were instructed to? I don't want any of them dying before

they reach their destination."

"Of course, sire."

"Excellent. Well, lay in the final preparations. We sail tomorrow."

"Yes, sire."

You might be wondering what this is all about. Well, let me explain.

It has been a hundred and fourteen years since I turned into what I am, and all this time, I haven't emulated my siblings in remaining _idle_ , of all things.

There were a lot of things that had to be gotten out of the way as soon as possible, and it's a point of pride for me to say that they really were taken care of.

The brotherhood of the five, who were after me? Dead and buried. It took a lot of pain and work, but it got done once I really got into it. Killing them all over and over again…that had been an interesting experience. After them had been the coven of witches who had been their allies.

 _Those_ had been a tougher nut to crack, requiring not just a few days but indeed, _years_ of work, to root out all their hidden witches and to steal or destroy all their tools and artefacts. But it was surprising how much could be achieved through blind, unceasing and uncaring application of copious amounts of violence, and that had been, as they said, that.

After that had come his main project, what I', working on now. Now, I'll have to admit, the idea for what I'm doing is not entirely mine, having been basically copied off of somewhere. I don't exactly recall where. It was a story…back when I was human. Possibly.

The fact of the matter is, I have been doing some…recruitment, I suppose the term would be.

About seventy years ago, after I had finally gained satisfactory control over my new instincts, I had taken a few tribes under my protection. I had lived with them, healed them with my blood, and basically made myself into a God for them.

There had been plans even then, to breed them, to bring about a generation that would grow up to know nothing but utter devotion to me, who would see me their god and who I would raise to immortality, laying the foundations of an organization that would one day conquer the world for me.

Trouble was…plans made in the immediate afterwards of coming off of a thirty year high are rarely the best thought out. Forty years ago, I'd had this organization. Nearly a hundred youths, all dedicated to me, all ready to be turned into Elder Vampires that would one day be among the most powerful immortals in this world…and I'd realized what was wrong. They all looked the fucking _same_. As in, every one of the immortals who were in time supposed to be spread across the world from China to Canada (the _long_ way around _)_ …looked Native American.

So…yeah

Still, a quick slaughter later, the evidence of my mistake had been hidden away neatly.

After that it was… _tedious_ work. I'd had to find a village that was suitably isolated, yet had something of a maritime tradition. Then bring in compelled shipwrights, builders, the whole nine yards. Rack my brains for advanced designs…build them…it had taken nearly three decades for the whole work to be complete, until I'd had a navy capable of reaching any and all coasts in the

Americas, Europe and Africa.

Despite my original thoughts, I'd eventually decided to leave Asia alone. It would have to come later. But over the course of the last ten years, we'd worked at it, rounding up kids and infants from all over the world, making sure we got the maximum possible diversity in looks. Every shade of hair, every kind of look…I needed people that could pass on any street unnoticed, and now I had them. Or rather, the beginnings of them.

Still, now that I have a basic group, it shouldn't take that long. A decade, two at the most, and I'll have my army!

XXXXXXXXXXXX

 **1200 AD**

 **Somewhere in South America**

As clearings go, it was a fairly impressive one, a sprawling work enough to hold close to a thousand people. It was elliptical in shape, with a throne placed on one of the narrow ends. It had been made very recently, as close as last week, in fact.

None of these were thoughts passing through young Henry's head. He stood in the middle of clearing with his compatriots, head held high, wearing a robe of the purest white. Prude bloomed in heart, pride at having come so far, to have been deemed worthy to join the Great One himself in his eternal walk of the mortal realms.

And it was an earned pride, if Henry had anything to say about it. When the news had come, that the Crimson Lord had decreed that it would be their generation who would ascend, there had been nearly two thousand of them, all young, all fierce in their dedication to their God and in their ambition.

Since then there had been tests, tasks and labours for them to accomplish, each tougher and more complex than the last. Sometimes they had gone out into the villages and tribes to find and bring back Medicine Men, other times it had been the Wolf Chiefs that they had been commanded to find and kill. There had been plenty of work, as they had been instructed and trained in fighting, in leadership, in the details of working without notice, to wield strength both of the physical sort and of the mental kind. Each of the Chosen was an adept negotiator, manipulator and fighter, having trained both among themselves and been exposed to outsiders when they bargained or treated to do the Great One's will without violence. And when he commanded them to do his will _with_ violence? Well, those times too, only the very best had mattered.

Of the original two thousand, the vast majority had been deemed unworthy, due to failing in one field or the other. Only the very best, those who were the finest fighters, negotiators, who could spot the strings of manipulation and spin them themselves had been selected. It had been a long process, having begun before the oldest of them was ten and ending only now, when the youngest of them was twenty-five. But here they were, the Chosen of Neri. They would be the first, the highest among His servants.

Speaking of him…Henry looked at where the Master was supposed to address them from…and his breath caught. Immediately, he sank to his knees. The master was _here_! Why hadn't anyone _said_ anything? He'd… he'd been standing! Without His leave!

Looking around a bit, he noticed the others noticing it, not to mention the ones who were looking at Henry himself. In a matter of seconds, everyone in the hall was on their knees, waiting for the

Great One to speak to them.

"Rise, my children. I would have words with you."

Slowly, the clearing full of people rose to their feet, several of them still dumbly slapping themselves, unbelieving, on a level, of the sin they had committed.

"You know why you are here today. It is time. Time for my Chosen to cast off their mortality, and to arise with me, as Immortals, as the rightful masters of Base Earth. You will be my instruments, as I forge a kingdom greater than any others, one that shall endure beyond any imagined lengths."

None of them answered. They had heard this before, and in any case, one did not interrupt the Great One.

"Very Well. We begin now."

XXXXXXXXXXX

As the bowls full of my blood, drawn over the last week and covered with preservation spells, are handed out, I allow myself to consider this critically. This took long. Very long. I had thought to use the initial generation I and my thralls had, ah, 'acquired', but as it turned out, there were complications. Diseases, a lack of reliable infrastructure, no secured territory…it took decades to reach understandings with the werewolves and the Witches, to build the fortresses where we lived, to get witches to work with us. In that time, the children were grown up, and while they were loyal, there was that 'shoddiness' in their indoctrination.

And, well, I recalled what I had told Klaus that say. I mean after all really. What _is_ time to one such as me? What do I _care_ if the task took the better part of a century?

So the second generation grew up, except that they were kinda…all over the place. I want homogeneity on at least that level, so that I don't have one person at ninety and another at nine.

And so we came to this third generation. All within five years of each other in age, all of them prime, healthy specimen…yeah. These ones are _good_.

I watch, dispassionately, as they all drink my blood as one. Some are more careless than others, and it makes the most interesting lines as it drips down their faces. When the last of them has consumed it, I make a signal, and as one, their parents move on them. One after the other, swords and daggers sink into hearts and abdomens and throats, as the parents kill their own children.

I then ask them. "Excellent, disciples. Are you prepared for the sacrifice that must come now, for your offspring to rise to join me in immortality?"

More than one set of eyes is wet, as they respond with a resounding "Yes!" The tears are not of fear, though. No, these people have known of this for a long time.

Rather, the tears are of pride and happiness. They dream of where they're going, of how high their children are rising.

"Let it be known that I acknowledge your sacrifice. Your children will never be lead astray, that much I promise you."

If they have any response to make, none of them is going to get the chance, because this is the point when the newly created Vampires start to wake.

Not to put too fine a point on the matter, what comes next is a whirlwind of blood and death, as children forget about who and what these people are to them apart from the fact that their veins hold that delicious, precious blood that they crave.

In a matter of minutes, the clearing is drenched in blood, and the only living beings…well, in a way, are the vampires.

Well…so that's that. There should be some nice, heavy angst for the rest of their lives, or rather, it would've been there, if they hadn't been conditioned for this since before they could walk.

Ah, the last of the Chosen has regained control over herself. I watch with an amused eye, as she rises from where she had been draining…her grandfather, wasn't that? Yes, her grandfather, and comes to stand in ranks with the others.

It's time to address them, now. I never told them of what would come next, always telling them they would know when they need to. Which is now.

"How do you feel, my children?"

None of them responds. Well, I didn't expect them to. I summon one at random, asking him, Henry, I think his name is, the question again.

He hesitates slightly, but then bloodstained lips move, and he speaks "I-I you spoke of this, Great One. I feel such thirst, such a lust for blood…"

"That it threatens to consume all that you are?" I smile slightly at his shocked look.

"I know. It is common to all immortals, child. You will need to learn to control it, to grow able to harness and use it. I will not have servants that are ruled by their base instincts, _you_ must rule your instincts. If you cannot rule yourself, how can I expect you to rule the kingdom we will shape together?"

He doesn't respond. That happens when you overwhelm someone to such a degree.

Well, feel free to return to your residences. Tomorrow, I begin to teach you how to be Vampires."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

He ran.

His name was…well, irrelevant. What mattered about him was that he was an Alpha Werewolf, a scion of an ancient line of such, to boot. His father's father and his ancestors had been warlords and commanders, ruling territories and commanding absolute fear and respect from communities cowed to absolute terror at the merest thought of Wolves coming for them.

But then _they_ had come. The strangers, with their honeyed words and their outlandish gifts, speaking of alliances and treaties, and his father, ever eager to play the diplomat, had happily allowed them to stay among them.

They had been model guests, eager to learn about the pack's history, to give great gifts of furs and gold, to help massively in hunting, for all that they ate practically none of it.

Until the time had come. They had struck in the night, as such beings are wont to do. Two years after they arrived, after they had familiarised themselves with everything, every nook and cranny of the pack's hunting lands, every single old myth old, bored wives were willing to tell, every confirmed story that was recorded by the shamans…they had acted, and in a single strike every single adult of the Alpha bloodline had been wiped out, killed in their sleep.

All except one. At this point, he was the Alpha of his people, their only hope. If he survived, they too would have a chance. He knew not what they meant to do with the pack, not to mention the young they had taken. Every child below the age of ten had been simply…missing, when he'd looked around in the village. He hadn't looked for long, granted, as they'd found him and he'd had to run, but…

The wolf's thoughts were cut short as two blurs moved on both sides of him, coming to a stop just ahead of him. He tried to stop himself suddenly, but a Werewolf's speed is not so easily broken. Crashing headfirst into the extended hand of the Vampire, he found himself dazed and disoriented…

And that was all there was to him, really. A second later his heart was lying on the ground, having been ripped out of his chest.

The vampire who had killed him looked at the other one.

"This one was the last of the runners, yes?"

"Yes, by our understanding."

"Good. Start cleaning up the location, and begin preparations for the children's journey."

"At one, lord."

As his subordinate ran off, Viktor nodded to himself. His King, his God had given him the task, trusting him after the disaster he had so nearly committed. He would not fail him. His lord had given him fifty years, fifty years to breed him an army of Werewolves. Viktor would either establish the best, greatest such army as could be had, or he would die trying.

Glancing unconsciously at the sunlight ring that he knew was on his smallest toe, Viktor curbed some of the thoughts coming up in his head. He wouldn't rush things. Not this time. It didn't matter how promising they might be, no one alive at the time of acquisition was to be considered as a possibility. The children taken today were solely and only the breeders. They would be used to sire a new generation of wolves, a generation that would be groomed and trained since their births to dedicate their lives to the Great One.

That even _they_ would be brought into active service was doubtful, as there would no doubt be people looking for the remnants of this pack by then. It would be a negotiable decision, however.

Relocation was a very valid choice…

Plans already spinning in his mind, Viktor, Chosen of Neri and a Lord among the Vampires, went on his way.

XXXXXXXXXX

I sat back, flexing my arms a bit to get rid of the ghost-cramped feeling from them. It's strange, the kind of thing one's subconscious tends to hold on to. My body cannot _get_ cramped, no matter what I do. And I even know that, intellectually.

But I still feel a shadow of the 'cramps' feeling.

Shaking my head slightly, I return to focus on the matter I was thinking of. Specifically, the Witches in my employ.

Well, the lack thereof, at least. We had some, when they worked on the preservations spells on my blood, and the protection and boundary spells on our bases. But when they realized the true extent of what they'd been part of...well, they had been distressed, let's just say. Distressed enough that they'd started to work together on a Great Curse to kill us all. Having to slaughter them before having gotten baby witches out of them was a waste I hope never to have to repeat again.

The fourteenth century is drawing to a close, and we started operations on acquiring magical knowledge about fifty years ago. In that time we have gathered a truly humongous library, out of trading favours, outright purchasing, threats, torture and extortion. What we have would put most mundane records to shame, particularly since I personally ensure that everything is copied over numerous times and sent to our strongholds, so that several copies of each spell remain with us.

It has grown to the extent that some of my chosen actually dared to ask me when I was thinking of starting on actually acquiring witches. Not that there's any pressing need right now, but I trained them well. They know not to wait until there is.

And fact is, _I'm_ getting bored too. I have all these ideas as to what things I'll do with magic, but I don't _have_ any witches, and even the idea of exposing our more important work to strangers is ridiculous.

Still, things remain on-track. In a decade or two, the first generation of children will be of age, boys and girls sired from captive male witches on devoted breeders. They are all being raised with the correct beliefs, and once they come into their power…well, we'll see. I _probably_ wouldn't even use them, really. Too early. I prefer to let time pass and erase our tracks with it.

But it's _magic._

Hm…we'll see. For now I need to make sure we don't lack in mundane means.

Over the last couple of centuries, I dedicated my Chosen almost completely to securing our position and preparing for the future. Everything else could come later, but these are must.

And now, now I can say that yes, we are at least close to finished. Over the continent of South

America we now have over a dozen Major strongholds, and more than a hundred smaller bolt-holes. The fortresses are protected by their secrecy as much as any other conditions. All built into places normal humans simply can't _imagine_ going, let alone reach…I daresay we have done some good work.

But all of that…it all seems so fucking _small_. Mundane resources and strongholds do not an empire make. I'm not even established in South America yet, and it's been nearly three hundred years!

Slow breaths, slow breaths…I need to calm myself. What's the hurry? I have all the time in the world.

By now, the store of magical knowledge we possess is pretty damn huge, enough to make for some very respectable witches ones we get people with the right talent to use it. I delayed operations on that end in the past, as it would have served literally no purpose to spook the covens before we were ready. But now…it's a different story.

Of course, it's going have to be the local covens. Or rather, shamans and medicine men from the tribes, if I am to be perfectly accurate. The process is simple enough and we have done it often enough that no one needs to be told much of what it entails, but a supervisory eye is best maintained regardless.

In time…in time I have _plans_. The bloodline of Ayana, descending unbroken from Qetsiyah herself, might still be found in the region of what will become Mystic Falls. That will be the crown jewel of my mystics, I think.

But that will come when it comes. For now, I need to focus on the here and now. Our werewolves clashed with several native packs a few days ago, the locals having formed some sort of 'super pack', to resist our encroachment. It's a futile step, of course. I'd never have allowed the wolves to go into the field if I hadn't built up a force first. We have thousands of wolves back here now, normal men and women just waiting for their curse to be activated. So no, I'm not worried about the local wolves.

I _am_ worried that the fighting could draw the witches attention, which would be an entirely unwanted outcome.

No, sending out another fifty wolves would be the right decision. A quick strike, hunting down every adult female in the enemy packs, leaving enough males alive so their bloodline can be bred in…yes, best get it done sooner rather than later.

A sound interrupts my thoughts. Someone just stepped into the corridor.

As she comes to the door, I identify the vampire with the sound of her steps. Speak of the devil…It's Urraca, the Chosen in charge of the ongoing invasion.

"Have you made your decision, Sire?"

Hm…I _could_ tell her that I had, and that it was in her favour. But where was the fun in that?

"Well, dear one. I have pondered what you have said, and I have considered what Theresa said. You do recall what she said, don't you?" _That_ should do it. Theresa was Urraca's bitterest rival, and both of them tended to compete for my influence in the most delightful of ways.

"Would the Great One be willing to accept some assistance in making your decision?"

"Oh. And what assistance would you offer, youngling?"

She _smirks!_ I forgot how feisty this one was!

"I wouldn't know, lord." She speaks, as her dress pools around her feet "what kind of assistance is the Red King willing to take from this lowly one?"

Suffice it to say, 'deliberations' went on for quite a while, especially given as neither of us had any mortal needs.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

I pull out of the woman with a slight grunt, her slick muscles doing their best to milk out the last hint of my essence from my cock.

She moans dazedly as I start dressing, being far too out of it to do anything more. To be fair, she lasted a fair while, much more than her mother, who's even now snoring lightly, head buried in the snatch of her sister, the aunt of my moaner.

 _That_ one is stone cold out, lying half-fallen to the floor on the edge of the bed.

Seriously, what kind of man brings his extended family on a voyage like this? But European nobility never laid claims to any heights of intelligence, after all. I'd landed in France in the dead of the night, scuttling my ship about ten miles or so from the coast and swimming the rest of the way.

The loss of the ship I'd judged a valid one due the potential implications of it falling into the hands of any naval power of this time, but it had become annoying _pretty_ soon. This had been supposed to be a vacation, after all. Me, celebrating my fledgling organization having finally become self sufficient, having acquired all three pillars of support I'd envisioned.

Instead, it'd been a bore of moving from place to place without any of the absolute comfort I'd so carelessly allowed myself to become used to, with the people looking suspiciously at me, and having to actually make an effort before girls threw themselves at me.

 _Then_ I'd gotten the idea of acquiring a few Renaissance artists for my group, and finding a ship going to Italy that was up to my standards had been truly an exercise in futility. Eventually I'd gotten bored and 'convinced' a Count of the urgent need he had to visit his cousins in Italy.

I hadn't expected that he would take his whole bloody family with him! And what a family…the man was an idiot, but he had married _delectably_. Fucking his wife, daughter, and mistress (the sister of the wife) in the same bed, at the same time hadn't exactly been my idea of a thanks, but it'd do.

With the last of my attire in place, I walk out of the cabin.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

So...I know it probably sucks. So tell me _how_ it sucks! Help me improve! I mean, _this_ story is already over, but I'm open to doing any amount of rewriting, and in any case, the future is open. Save my writing!


	2. Chapter 2

I shudder slightly in sheer pleasure, as the woman grinds herself harder and harder on my lap. This ass…the sheer _tightness_ and heat of it is amazing. Readjusting myself slightly, I start fucking my cock ever into her, drawing ever increasing cries of pleasure.

Below the window, a crowd is gathering. I can already hear the murmurs, not to mention the hoots as they latch their eyes upon Lucrezia's breasts, hanging below the window as they are.

Moving slightly, I make a series of small, barely noticeable gestures, seemingly to no one. But those with the eyes to see have seen, and the crowd will be dealt with easily enough. To be honest, this probably wasn't the best idea. Fucking the Pope's daughter on his own window for all of Rome to see…not my wisest day.

But sue me, I go crazy with power. The last century has been utter… _heaven_ , and now that my vacation draws to a close, I need to have as much as possible, okay?

I feel her muscles clenching down on my manhood, as her climax drawn near. I go even faster, while my fingers descend into her pussy, scissoring in and out, pinching particular points, while my other hand works to stimulate the hotspots across her back and neck.

Eventually, she comes with a loud scream, painting my fingers with her juices as her knees buckle. I bring my hand up to her mouth, making her smell herself, before she starts lapping at the fingers.

With a grunt I take the girl off the window, moving a steps backwards. I pull out of her and turn her around, almost too fast for her to understand.

Indeed, all she manages is a "Wha!" before I force her on her knees. A second later, I press myself deep into her throat, revelling in the vibrations as she tries to speak. After a few seconds she gives up, and instead I feel my pleasure increasing manyfold as she puts her mind to it. She swallows around my cock, bobbing her head on his rapidly, playing with my tip with her tongue.

It's a very talented tongue. I find myself succumbing to her soon enough, painting her innards white in a series of spurts that leave me well and truly spent.

I look down at the girl, now lolling about the papal bed. I'll _miss_ this one. There were a lot of girls over the past century, but none as enthusiastic and plain _freaky_ as Lucrezia Borgia. Part of me suggests taking her with me…but that isn't a possibility.

Oh well.

XXXXXXXXXXX

As the coast grew larger in front of him, Neri allowed himself to muse about his 'vacation'. For what had been supposed to be a long, multi-century party, a bit too much had been spent working, to be honest.

Still, the haul was worth it. Thinkers, artists, political geniuses… the next few centuries would be fun, he thought.

There would be the opinions of his Chosen to consider, of course. He had gone a tad overboard in his magpie-like lust for famous names, after all. Machiavelli, Da Vinci… it remained to be seen how useful they would be outside of a study.

Shaking his head lightly, he focused on the future. The seventeenth century was dawning upon them, and with it its challenges. His siblings would be arriving in a century or so, not to mention the Europeans traipsing all over the place. The vampires that came with them…shouldn't be _too_ much of a problem, truth be told, but they _were_ a concern.

Then there was the North America expansion. Unless his Chosen had cocked everything up, South America should be pretty well sewn up by now, which would free the organization's resources for an eventual drive northwards…it was going to be a busy hundred years, he decided.

 **The next day**

The atmosphere in the hall was light. They lay there, lounging, talking over things of all shades and stripes. At first look it might even have seen jovial. Well, to an idiot, at least. The truth was, every smile was fake, and every mind carried poison for the others.

All of that was interrupted when someone strode in through the main door, a door than had never been opened since the place had been built. Seeing who it was, the men and women threw themselves down, prostrating themselves.

He had come.

One of the Chosen, a lady named Xianna, stepped up to him. "We awaited you, Lord! You have returned and now you shall proclaim my greatness for all to hear!"

At this, the whole hall seethed. Whether at her presumption, her stupidity, or because she had gotten her words out first, Neri knew not.

He looked at her. Dressed in the finery suited to an Aztec goddess, she was smirking at him, proud and glorious, no doubt congratulating herself already. Looking around, he saw her attitude reflected, in eyes that hid their pride at his gaze and beginnings of loud arguments that turned into coughs.

They all disappeared awfully fast when he ripped her heart out and splattered it against the wall.

"I am displeased." he hissed out, letting the towering rage he was in out to be displayed. The response was immediate. A palpable aura of sheer _terror_ erupted across the hall, as instincts that had developed under two hundred years of absolute supremacy gave way to more primal feelings, and the mystic bond that bound them all to him was reasserted.

"You were commanded to maintain the Witch bloodlines. The Werewolves were supposed to have been groomed for command, to be made fit to join this very council. Rogue vampires were not to be allowed to settle. Was I unclear in my commands when I gave them?"

No one dared say a word. Everywhere he looked, eyes lowered instantaneously, and words died in mouths before they could be spoken.

Until some were. Sebastian never _had_ been smart. "With all due respect, Great One, things have changed-" was about as far as he got, before Neri ripped his tongue out through his throat.

"I do not want EXCUSES!"

Throwing the tongue at a wall, Neri landed a punch solidly on the vampire's face. Over the next several minutes, he systematically smashed that face in, simply _beating_ on it until it no longer resembled a face. In the end, he dug his fingers into the neck, and _tore_ it off the shoulders.

Taking several calming breaths, he started.

"This is what I expect done within the week."

From there, he started issuing orders. It took several seconds before the shocked, still vampires sped to action, carefully paying attention to his words and asking relevant, important questions. No one paid mind to the two dead exampled lying on the floor, because no one wanted to join them.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

From there, things were brought on track. If one was to be completely honest, it was in a great part Neri's own fault. He had remained absent nearly a decade and a half longer than he'd promised, and that was the time in which things had started to get neglected. When the last of his orders regarding leadership expired, then the struggles among his Chosen had begun, as they competed against each other to seen as the leader of the organization.

It wasn't them sabotaging each other. All the way back at their turning he'd compelled them never to sabotage their work, and that had held. But then, no sabotage was needed. Neglect, just the _neglect_ of them ignoring their duties and focusing on their petty games of leadership had been enough.

No more.

With the squabbles and command confusions over, the organization as a whole cried in relief at no more petty duties and forgotten expeditions conducted solely to fulfil formalities.

Neri went to work with a relish, whipping the organization into shape. Of the many challenges they faced one was to integrate his new members into the command structure, establishing the new vampires so that the artists would continue to produce their genius works, the planners would be able to serve the whole with their talents, so on and so forth, and it was duly executed.

There were troubles, of course. There were always troubles. Fanatically loyal as his Chosen were, they were proud and more than slightly arrogant, and even he couldn't just foist newcomers upon them and expect perfect cohesion. But the problems had been anticipated and would be taken care of, so that wasn't a great issue.

What _was_ were the witches. Neri's breeding and training projects had been a success, and they had flourished in South America. Over the last many decades, they had used their talents well, fortifying his strongholds, casting protection spells on his troops, working to enhance his works.

What had been a glaring weakness had been _innovation_. New spells, new magic was rare in the organization, and that was what he was intending to change. Neri established several cells across the continent whose job would be to do nothing more than research and innovate. They would be the oldest, most capable witches, and from morning to night they would consult his whole collection of knowledge, receive requests, ideas and demands from across the organization, and seek to device magic to fulfil them.

Again, he didn't expect immediate results. These things took time.

And so time passed. As decades went by, the last 'wild' werewolves in South America were hunted down and exterminated, leaving behind only the ones controlled by Neri. New ones coming from the Old World had the choice of either joining up or dying, albeit it wasn't a choice anyone found out about until it was too late.

While the werewolves were dealt with, the witches too were under similar…unification. The shamans and medicine men had been on the way out for a long time, but their departures were accelerated quickly. Given as he lacked means to _truly_ bind them to him, Neri simply didn't bother. The most powerful, promising witches were caught, mutilated to remove each of their limbs, and bred, to retain their bloodlines for the organization. The weak, ordinary ones just died.

The first half of the seventeenth century passed thus, in a flurry of death and sex and organization. The vampires and werewolves of the organization grew in strength and ability by leaps and bounds, a result of the spells cast by the Witches, who themselves grew more and more adept at developing new spells and rituals, with the library of spells already known growing frantically all this time.

And then, once a certain threshold was crossed, once the end of the century drew near…

 _Then_ it was time to look North.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **1719  
Off the East Coast**

The ship drifted lazily to the shore. The men guiding it did their best to align it with the coast, which was not an easy task with the complete absence of any kind of docs or landing arrangement. Once it was stationary, they carried out the two coffins as best as they could, loading them up into the carriage.

"Very well done" the smooth, cultured voice commented. "Now, what did you say the name of the nearby town was?" Elijah Mikaelson asked, looking the leader of the humans in the eye.

"New Orleans" the man replied in a stupor.

"Ah, yes. Good."

And then they were off.

They arrived in the aforementioned town after several hours of riding, which was when everything went… _strange._

It was nothing easily noticeable, of course. They arrived, arranged accommodations, and even settled in. but over the next several days, they started to discover that things weren't _quite_ how they had expected them to be, from the little they had heard about this place.

There were already vampires here, for one thing. They had expected to be able to seed their bloodlines here, to gain power and influence by virtue of spreading their 'gift', but if there were already vampires who could peddle immortality…

Klaus had been ready to go to war, to drive the local immortals away so they could spread their power freely, but Elijah had heard some rumours that there was a leader of these vampires arriving here soon, and had stayed his brother until they could meet him or her.

Stayed him until today, that was.

"Come on, Elijah. I have heard tell that he is here. The one they call the Great One, the one in whose honour they claim to be working. His ship docked in the morning."

"Well then, Niklaus. Let's go and introduce ourselves!"

The locals had built a magnificent palace on the outskirts of the city, hidden at some depth in the jungle. No mortal humans were permitted in the area, but Witches and Werewolves visited it often, to trade and bargain with the vampire leaders. Sections of the palace had remained closed, sealed with incredibly powerful spells, but from what they had heard, those spells were being dropped today.

"Yes, brothers. I want to see what this 'greatest party ever' is all about." Rebekah said from the side, dressed up already.

And so the originals visited.

As soon as they neared the premises, they sensed that something was…not _wrong_ , per se, but _strange_.

The place had always been well guarded, but now it seemed positively _fortified_ , to standards they had practically never seen outside of the strongest coven strongholds in Europe and Asia. The weight of the enchantments and spells of protection and security hung in the air, creating an oppressive, almost overbearing heat. Everywhere they looked, guards stood alert. They were not the normal guards either, being, to a man, almost seven feet tall, well built and alert as only Werewolves could be.

So many werewolves…

And as they got closer, the vampires became more visible. They were _everywhere_. Camouflaged, hidden in the trees, along the ground, all with what seemed like rather advanced guns, no doubt carrying wooden bullets.

Whoever their leader was, he did not fuck around with security.

Which made it even stranger that they were never actually challenged. While each of them felt over a dozen eyes on them at all times, the complete lack of any actual communication was contributing to the sheer strangeness of it all quite a bit.

Eventually, they stood in the foyer of the mansion, looking around the place.

Looking around, Elijah noticed every single elder of the New Orleans covens here, mingling among each other but never leaving the proximity of the Regent. Close to them were the Werewolf Alphas, gravitating around the Crescent Wolf king.

There were a few odds and ends scattered around, a couple of vampires, a travelling pack that had been in town, a couple of nomadic witches and whatnot.

It seemed everyone had been waiting for them, given that as soon as Rebekah and Elijah walked in, Klaus having come before them by a second or two, the host, the leader of the Vampires, called Henry, stood up and called out to get their attention.

"Hello, my friends. To the Witches and Werewolves of New Orleans, I give you my thanks for being such good neighbours. To newcomers, I bid you welcome!" he said, gesturing expansively.

As the responding noises died down, he spoke again. "When me and my organization first came here, we found a world rife with petty feuding and war. Everyone wanted what everyone else had, and no one wanted to share. But look at us now! Peaceful coexistence with each other, all of us profiting, and not a drop of blood spilled unnecessarily. Is this not truly a worthy outcome?"

That was about the point when Elijah tuned him out, and instead talked to Klaus "So, brother? What are your thoughts?"

"Whoever it is, they certainly have done their work. I discovered the local history when in bed with a rather delectable young witch. It was rather worse than what our host speaks of. These newcomers have soothed quite a few ruffled feathers in the last decade. Age old enmities have been settled, the Regent of the Nine Covens actually has _power_ now."

"So they are a powerful force?"

"Very much so, from what seems. But do not worry, brother. I doubt they would be able to stand against three Originals, no matter how powerful they may be."

"Yes, brother. On that I may have to agree."

Eventually the self-congratulating twaddle the vampire was going on with ended, and he got to the main purpose of the gathering. The introduction of the primary, original leader of the organization, and the plans they would be enacting in the near future.

It was when he entered, striding in tall and proud from the side door, that Klaus felt his jaw hitting the floor. Absolute _rage_ seethed in his heart, as he gazed upon the oh-so-familiar visage. For though he had not seen the elder for nearly eight hundred years, the features of his brother would forever remain seared into his mind.

"I present to you Neri Malach, my dear ladies and gentlemen!" Klaus dimly heard the vampire finish.

He looked to Elijah, noticing the expression that he felt must be identical to his own. Neri. Their brother. His one true brother. The one who had abandoned them all those years ago. They had looked for him, tried to find any traces they could…he heard Neri say something to the guests, making a speech of some kind, most likely, but ignored it, immersed in his own racing thoughts.

Neri was alive. He had not been hunted down by Mikael. He was here and these were _his_ creatures, all of them.

It was a while later that he noticed Rebekah tugging at his sleeves.

"Come, Niklaus. We're called by out great Big _brother."_ If Klaus had expected to feel pleasure at the anger he heard in Rebekah's face regarding their brother, he was surprised. But then, Neri and Rebekah had always been close, the older boy lavishing her with gifts and attention even when no one else would. That such a beautiful relationship had been soured wasn't pleasant even to him.

They were being ushered by someone, he noted. It was a vampire, dressed as a servant. He moved deftly, taking them through several corridors and across several doors until they arrived at an ornately decorated door in a dimly lit corridor.

"Kindly wait here, sirs and madam. I will see if the Great One is ready to admit you."

Klaus nodded tersely. He had choice words to speak to his brother.

The door opened, and the man ushered them in gently through it.

"Presenting The Great One, the Dark One, His Divine Majesty-"

"That will be enough, Charles. This isn't a French coven meeting."

The usher bowed hurriedly "Of course, lordship." Before turning around and leaving swiftly.

"Well, well, well. The Great and Honourable Elijah visits me at last. And Niklaus with him!"

From the corner of his eye, Klaus saw Rebekah twitch.

"And you've stuck with these boring idiots for so long too, little girl?"

Elijah had to suppress an urge to attack his half-brother. Their first meeting in so many centuries, and he was starting with insults?

Of course, others had no such reservations.

"Wait, what are you-"

"SLAP" expressed Rebekah's feelings towards her brother rather well.

She opened her mouth, no doubt to unleash a scathing diatribe, when Neri's voice boomed "STAND DOWN!"

Klaus looked around wildly at that. As he saw who Neri had given the command to, his jaws tensed.

The room was suddenly crowded. Everywhere, on the balcony overlooking them, out from the windows, in the further corners, there were people. People with guns pointed at them, in groups of two with an unarmed in between them. No doubt the witch casting the cloaking spell.

Once he took the scene in, Klaus relaxed.

Well, pretended to.

Affecting a bored tone, he drawled "So this was the 'meeting'. Come now, brother. What did you expect these to achieve?"

"The bullets are White Oak, you moron." Neri hissed out through clenched teeth.

That shut them up.

Elijah spoke up then "But this is, of course, typical of you. Is this why you called us here, to slaughter us and secure your rule once and for all?"

"Maybe. I wish it had been _you_ who struck me. I would be rid of you, at the very least."

"Oh come now, brother. It has been centuries. Can you not let it go?" Rebekah's voice was slightly shaky as she pleaded. It pained Elijah to see all the fire that had suffused her just a few seconds ago snuffed out so brutally.

The room fell silent.

Neri gazed at them, first at Elijah with muted hatred, his expression morphing into something like pity when he looked at Klaus, before, finally, it softened, a small smile breaking out when he looked at Rebekah.

"For you, little girl, anything. Fine. Let us be at peace. Children, you may leave. Go on, have some fun! These are my brothers and sister. They will not try to hurt me."

Once the last of the vampires had filed out, Niklaus spoke "I would not be so sure of that, brother. You left us when we needed you. Abandoned us."

"Abandoned you? I gave us all a chance to grow without the other's shadow looming over us!"

"Oh do not pretend it was anything like that. You simply did not want the obligation!"

"You may feel free to think that, if you wish. I am beyond caring. I gave you a chance to flourish. To build something in your name, to be truly free of Mikael's accursed shadow."

"But we never were, were we? While you hid away, he was free to hunt us across the world. We spent a millennium running!"

"And whose fault was that? Do not insult me, Niklaus, by pretending it was anything but your own infinite depravity and short-sighted cruelty that drew Mikael to you every single time. I am here. I was here for most of this time. Quiet. Building. Growing. I have yet to see a visit from the man. And it is more the pity, because the time Mikael comes for me is the time he will die."

Neri took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a few seconds.

"But our sister asks me to let bygones be bygones. So let's. we are here now, united and strong. Let us be a family now. Always and forever, wasn't that what you called it?"

And so silence stretched.

"Brother" Klaus started hesitantly.

"Oh come on, Nik. Say yes!" Rebekah all but stamped her foot.

"I…agree."

"Good. Good!" Neri said, smiling wide.

"And enough of this sadness. We are united after centuries. Let there be some fun! WINE!" he yelled with his head towards the door.

"These are my brothers and sister. Children, make sure they are afforded the highest of service. Nothing must be denied them. Nothing!"

"Yes, lordship." The vampire bowed low.

From there, things got a bit…debauched.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX


	3. Chapter 3

"I said, Nikalus, you will cease these infantile actions of yours. You are seven hundred and fifty three years old. It is high time that you acquired a modicum of maturity. This attempt of yours, to incite the city against the witches is an unnecessary disturbance to our interests."

"And I say you are a weak coward. They rebuff your efforts when they should be terrified of you, they dare speak as equals when by rights they aren't even worth the dirt beneath our feet-"

"And that is the kind of thinking that hasn't let you build anything in all this while."

Neri tuned his brother out as Klaus launched into a long-winded response. This was not their first argument on the matter, and frankly, he doubted it would be their last. He knew what caused it, of course. Klaus wanted the city for himself. He envisioned himself building it as his own fief, being the power…

Or it could be fate, he supposed. Either way, this was getting tiresome. In any case, the thing that he wanted to prevent had been successfully prevented. Celeste Dubois had been turned into a vampire, and then staked, to make sure she couldn't pull those body snatching tricks of hers. He really had no more use for the bloody city.

He sighed lightly to himself, before raising a hand. Arrogant and stupid as his brother was, Klaus understood him well enough to stop speaking that very instant.

"Very well. You say you can rule better? That you would rather have room to spread your wings, and not feel my shadow loom over you? Perhaps." Neri looked over his other siblings. He didn't know if he expected them to be anguished, but the cool indifference somehow bothered him more than it had any right to.

Very well.

"Indeed, I dare say the time is come for us to part again. Brother, I give you the city of New Orleans. Rule it, leave it or burn it down to the ground, I care not a fig anymore. My organization will be out of here in a week, and you will have complete freedom since then."

Done, he looked at Klaus. The younger man looked absolutely gobsmacked. Neri suspected he'd secretly come to somewhat enjoy these little tiffs of theirs, the back and forth arguments being rather interesting at times. Well, no more.

It would have been a complicated proposition, under normal circumstances, to just pick up everything and leave. But fact was, the witches _had_ growing quite a bit impudent, and he had a great many interests further north that called for his supervision by now.

It'd be fine.

XXXXXXXXX

 **1864**

Ah. Mystic falls.

This place… I don't think I can ever _quite_ let go of it in my mind. Home might be where the heart is, but this place…it has _something_.

Anyway, right now I have things in mind rather more important than mere nostalgia. I look backwards at the vampires that are going away from me, back into the hideout we've built. This place has been rather bereft of my touch so far, given as I didn't want to butterfly away the chance of Elena Gilbert being born here, and end up being forced to track her down across the world…how utterly banal would _that_ be?

Of course, the doppelganger isn't all that is required, which is what brings me here now. Katerina Petrova is…quite literally priceless, I'll have to say. The single most important factor in my plans yet, without a doubt.

Speaking of which…I'm here.

In a second, I'm cloaked and undetectable, thanks to the ring on my left hand. One of the many, many useful items my witches have made for me, it's basically a portable cloaking spell with an internal fuel component, so none of the fussy 'bleeding from the nose' due to too much power expended to hinder me.

I've arrived at the precise night, when the vampires in town are to be gathered up and sealed into the tomb. Not that _they_ have any of my interest.

No…my target is right…there.

Showtime!

"If anyone learns of my escape, I will find you and I will kill you. Don't think that I won't." She says, in a tone so light that she could have been discussing the weather.

"We shall take each other's secrets to the grave. Now, you must hurry." George Lockwood replies, smug in his delight.

That expression melts away from his face pretty quickly, when I reach them.

"As a matter of fact, you won't." I lazily drawl out, from where I'm standing. My cloaking spell melts away even as their heads turn.

Katherine's eyes widen at my sight. That's surprising. How…ah. Klaus with his pretty pictures. Before she can say anything or run, I'm standing next to her, my hand already at her throat.

"Snap!" her neck snaps. That handles her for a few hours.

Lockwood is opening his mouth to say something. Problem is, I don't care. I look in his eyes.

"Freeze."

Well, that's that. I take the Moonstone from him, and put my identical fake in its place.

"Your deal tonight went perfectly. You will forget about me. You got Katherine into her carriage, and sent her off."

His eyes…yup dilated prettily. That takes care of things here. Really, it had been a surprise, realizing that even with the bulk of my powers sealed, I could still compel werewolves. I guess that's one of the benefits of being a True Immortal.

"Now go home." I say to the werewolf, heaving Petrova over my shoulders. As the werewolf runs away obediently, I look sideways at the vampire. Oh, the fun times we're going to have…

Well, fun for me, at least. That's the part that matters, y'know.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Katherine awoke in darkness.

Then she turned on the lamp lying on the stand next to the bed. She had been in enough bedrooms to realize that this one had to be located in some kind of palace, between the silk sheets, the velvet curtains and the other displays of garish wealth that were strewn about.

She would have thought more about the place, but then she recalled just who the man had been, who had picked her up. Suppressing a slight shudder, she thought back to that day, when she had noticed the portrait on Klaus's wall, of an exquisitely handsome, impeccably dressed young man.

She'd asked Klaus, and received her answer that he was the hybrid's older brother, who had left the family a long time ago to do his own thing. She recalled the name, Neri Mikaelson.

And she recalled the _other_ name she had heard, when she'd enquired a bit on her arrival. Not Mikaelson. _Never_ Mikaelson. But Malach. Neri Malach, King of the Red Court, Emperor of the Crimson Dynasty, Archon of the Three in One….he had many titles, one for each time his organization had changed names. But of all of them, the name itself was what had stuck with her.

Neri Malach. Angel of Light. What a _joke._

She had heard the rumours associated with that name. Witch covens slaughtered, werewolf packs suborned and enslaved…every single Vampire, Werewolf and Witch in South America either was a part of their organization or were its allies.

She, much like most others who heard them had dismissed them as unconfirmed rumours, but there had always been that chilling _what_ _if_ lying underneath.

And they had been spreading north…

Katherine's thoughts were interrupted suddenly, when she heard the door opening. In a flash, she lunged. If she could get to whoever it was, and make them release her…

He caught her outstretched hand in a vice grip, before using it to yank her close to him and clasping her other hand, forcing them both behind her back so she was forced to thrust out her sternum. One hand holding both her wrists, the other settled at her throat.

"Feisty, are you? We'll have to work on that."

That was when she was finally able to focus on his face. And if she could have kicked herself then, she would have. It was the big guy himself. She'd tried to rush an _Original._

She calmed herself with a few deep breaths. She needed to tread _very_ carefully here. She wracked her brain for everything she knew of Neri. Old as his siblings, more independent-minded, more of an empire-builder than Elijah, fewer compunctions than Klaus…and then the bottom dropped out of her stomach, as Klaus's voice echoed in her mind.

' _If Neri wants to be free of this curse he shares with me, let him find his own doppelganger'_

And then, as she looked into the eyes of the vampire they called the Emperor of the West, Katerina Petrova felt very, very afraid.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Ah, that sweet, sweet terror…I don't think I'll ever outgrow the rush it brings me. Katerina Petrova…in the end, it all leads back to her, doesn't it? My most urgent needs, the stone and the doppelganger, both can be solved through her alone, and even in the show, her influence was palpable for seasons after her death…yes, I think I'm going to enjoy breaking this one in. She has that fire in her, the kind that sputters _most_ as the fingers close in.

Yeah. It'll be fun!

I allow her to terrify herself with imagined tortures first, so that when I speak, it's positively a lifeline to her, being so much better than everything she has no doubt imagined for herself.

"So, Katerina Petrova. You have vexed my brothers quite a bit, you know."

"Please, I'll do anything. Please, I know you probably want to torture me just like Niklaus, but please kill me, I'm begging you. You already have the stone, and-and-"

"Calm down, woman. Tch, killing you, torturing you…do I look like someone who would do something so boorish? Wait, don't answer that."

"In any case, let's so with something simple to begin with, why don't we? So, Katherine. You will start feeling completely, desperately lustful, to the extent that you will have the best orgasm of your life, in about…ten seconds. Go!"

As her muscles start twitching on themselves even in the face of her self control, I allow myself a small smile, that grows into a full grin when she tightens right up, bending in a curve that looks like it'll make her spine snap, before shuddering her way through her climax.

"Well, that was fun, wasn't it? Let's do that again, but this time twice as strong."

I lean back, as the second set of shudders rocks her frame, lewd moans escaping her self-control.

"Okay, miss Pierce. Now let's flip your pain and pleasure responses. From now, until I tell you otherwise, you will find pain to be pleasure, and vice versa." I finish.

As shuddering, wet mess of a body slowly gathers itself so as to assert herself, I reach out down her neckline, catching hold of a nipple. A small, brief but brutal _twist_ elicits a loud, lewd moan of pleasure.

This can't last, of course. I have other uses for her, and the circumstances that I operate under will make sure she's freed to play her role in canon, and so it had better be on my terms. Till then, though…

XXXXXXXXXXX

Katerina Petrova would not be seen out in the open for a long, long time, having become, as she had, Neri's own little toy. But that was a different matter. Another matter, quite a bit more important, was the coming threat.

The years whiled away, and things kept growing with them. The tentacles of the Red Court, as the few who knew of Neri's organization were calling it, a name Neri quite liked, kept spreading at their sedate, careless pace. But all this while, something had been approaching. It came to a head in the twentieth century, when, for the first time in many, many centuries, a report was received detailing that the slayer of vampires had been sighted on American lands.

Mikael was here, summoned by his daughter so she could have her boy toy.

And that was what led to the meeting that was taking place at that day, in New Orleans.

The room was a large one, and well appointed. It had been a gift from someone to the witches of New Orleans, another token in a long list of them that he tended to throw around like confetti.

"Well? Why'd you call the meeting, Nate?"

"What're you talking about? _You_ called the meeting!"

"Yeah, the guy who got me said it was you, Mia."

"Wait…so none of us called the meeting? Is that what's happening here?"

"It's another of Klaus's tricks. Has to be. He's on another hunt."

"Actually, Niklaus has no idea about this meeting. Or much else, at that." The voice that spoke from the back was silken smooth, with the barest traces of a British accent.

"Who…?" Nathaniel Dupois, Regent of the Nine Covens of New Orleans, trailed off questioningly.

The stranger revealed his face.

"Wait. I _know_ you. You're…"

"Sebastian. Yes. We met some time ago. As for the rest of you, I believe you would recognize this, even if you don't recognize _me_." He said, dropping a card on the table.

As one, they saw it. The next instant, everyone went completely still. The card wasn't, honestly speaking, all that much. It was a pure, absolute blood-red thing, with a single, stylized N dominating it in the middle, a pair of wings sprouting from it.

It was, nonetheless, one of the most important symbols anyone here had ever seen.

Eventually, the regent spoke. "Yes, I _do_ recognize that. And had you told me about him on our first meeting, I'd have-" whatever he would have done would never come to be known, because this was the exact point at which everyone started talking very loudly.

"Nate, you know this person? Who is he? And what is he showing us that-that symbol for? You know what Klaus will do to those who would entertain a thought of working with _him_."

"Alia… I don't _know_ this person. I just met him once before."

"Yes, I was told to see if you were someone reasonable, or if we would be needing a new Regent for this place."

"Wait, what? But you don't have anything to do here! Klaus chased off your master!"

Sebastian's face darkened at that. "Yes…those stories he's telling. Let's just say the time will come when there will be a reckoning for those. In the meantime, now that you know who I represent, I have an offer."

That did it. Those were the magical words, and as the witches heard them, they did their work. Everyone here knew, at some level, of Neri Malach, and the rumours that went about him covered his extreme, _obscene_ generosity just as much as they did his ruthlessness. A single mention of an offer was enough to make all sorts of visions dance in front of eyes.

Still, these were canny old Elders. They weren't going to go crazy just for an offer. A series of looks passed between them, ranging from cautious agreement to flat dismissal. As a matter of fact, they managed a full discussion, entirely unknown to the vampire (they had learned to their detriment that even the faintest murmurs would be heard by the vamp before they themselves heard them).

Eventually, the Regent took the lead "So what kind of exchange is your master offering?"

Sebastian smiled.

"That's what I like to hear. So let me tell you. The vampire you may know of Mikael, Slayer of Vampires and father of the Originals, and even of my own master, is about to visit this city very soon. And Neri Malach has decreed that that would be the ideal time to be rid of him once and for all."

He paused here, to let the witches digest the information.

A few seconds later, he continued "What is expected from you, is assistance in this task, in the form of providing powerful witches, preferably Elders, to support Neri and his forces in the fight, and use your powers to disable and bind Mikael wherever possible. In exchange for the covens providing him their services for a full day, along with the Regent himself aiding him, Neri is willing to provide each of the Nine covens three spells from his personal libraries, and five spells for the Regent."

He stopped here, to take in the faces. Most of them had gone eager and open, the mercenary greed they normally liked to hide shining bright in their eyes. Then the Regent spoke.

"Three spells? Is this supposed to be some kind of insult? We witches of New Orleans do not need others to teach us spells!"

"Oh, you don't? Then Lord Malach asks you to lend him this aid solely to repay his favours to you in the last Harvest. I'm sure a community as true and honest as the Witches of New Orleans will pay their debts without fail.

As the expressions on the witches' faces went sour, Sebastian smiled.

Of course, the negotiations had just begun. The end result was still a long way off.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

I watch the show spellbound. Well, I have to, don't I? It's magnificent. Oh, not the opera. Hell no. I mean, it's not even started, and I've always been 'meh' about it at that. No, I mean the show going on in the private box located in the finest position in the whole theatre, where Mikael and Klaus are having their… 'sit-off?' I don't know what to call it.

"...the deeds of the _mighty_ Klaus will be remembered by _no one!_ " Ah, father. Yep, that hateful voice is quite assuredly him.

"And once you and your works are forgotten, then I will hunt down that elder brother of yours. I will find him, and I will kill those who worship him as their god, until everything he has built crumbles to ash before him. And then, only then will I allow him the sweet liberty of death!"

…and that is why I can't have nice things.

Oh well, if I'd had any doubts about what is to come, this very helpfully deals with them.

"It's him. Move everyone in position, ready everything, the backups, and the escape plans." I speak into the spell that will relay my words to my disciples waiting for the final confirmation so he can start things.

"We understand and obey, lord."

And that's that.

From there I watch as several 'unscheduled' lines of dialogue are spoken, the psychopath father and son even bonding a little over their mutual hatred of me. The 'show' is unveiled, the chase begins…

It is when my siblings have escaped and Mikael is preparing to burn the city down that I step in. He's in the middle of the French Quarter, exactly where I knew he would be, and things are about as ready as they are ever going to be.

"Hello, father." I speak, stepping out of the shadows behind Mikael. I'll admit, it's more than a bit scary to have him whirling about, almost growling at the sound of my voice. The expression of visceral hatred is mixed with a touch of savage happiness when he notices me.

"Ah, Neri. Good. You cowardly brother may have run off, but it seems I will be able to be rid of one abomination today, at least."

"Well, I wouldn't be so sure about that." is all I say. I have no wishes to engage my father in conversation. At least not while he's still in possession of a white oak stake.

I raise my hand, and make a gesture at lightning-fast speed, almost too fast for even Mikael to follow.

And the rifles roar.

Then they roar again, again and again, as over and over and over, bullets covered in White Oak Ash are pumped into him.

I allow myself relief, now. It's almost over…

Whoa!

What the fuck! I catch hold of his arm just in time to prevent the stake from sinking into my chest. A series of punches throws him back enough for me to get some breathing room.

Bloody hell. That was too close.

As my father falls to his knees, finally turning corpse-white and stiff, I make another gesture. The 'packup' is now started. He will be covered in white oak ash, and sealed into an iron coffin with literally _thousands_ of spells on it, all to make sure he doesn't come out any time soon, and, y'know, murder me horribly.

But it's done now. Mikael, the vampire Hunter of Vampires, is dealt with. I'm _safe_.

For now.

XXXXXXXXXX


	4. Chapter 4

**Rio de Janeiro  
1983**

The woman shivered slightly as she felt the touch upon her bare breast. She was laid out onto a huge bed, generously covered with silks and cushions, but strangely enough, none of that provided any comfort to her now, for whatever reason.

"So, Katerina. Ready for another session?"

Katerina Petrova felt heat pool between her legs at the sound of the voice. It was the Master. Master was speaking. Master's hand was trailing across her belly now…she arched her back as yet another series of nerve-racking orgasms crashed into her when he did that little trick with her navel.

"So, my beauty. It has been…how many years, since you joined us?"

"A hundred and twenty. Master." A hundred and twenty years of pure sex and _sin_. She remembered even now. Beings fucked like a two penny whore on a public street, being treated as if she were a queen, a doll, treated lightly and brought to climax over and over again without even having lost her clothes…and the torment with it, going without any kind of pleasure for weeks and months…

They had fucked on just about every surface imaginable. And that was _not_ an exaggeration.

Oh _yes_ she remembered every day of the one twenty years.

"Shall I take your being lost in thought as a yes, Katerina?" her Master asked her, tone light.

She looked at him now, really _looked._ He was as naked as her, lounging as a cat, idly caressing the back of Katerina's daughter's head as Nadia worked her tongue upon his manhood.

Katerina envied her daughter somewhat, to be honest, as the master's taste was the greatest things she'd ever tasted in her life.

"Well, then, let's start. Nadia dear" he said, looking the girl in the eye "You cannot hear anything being spoken here. Continue what you're doing."

Then he turned to her. "You will not move. You will not speak I expressly allow it."

As the power of the compulsion settled upon her, Katerina could feel the oddest tension, somewhere within her. She wondered why. This was nothing they hadn't done before. For some reason she couldn't really recall what came _after_ this, but…

"Okay, then, Katerina. I remove all compulsions upon you apart from the one I placed just a moment ago."

And then she _did_ recall.

Her mouth was still, the magic of the compulsion holding it shut tightly. But inwards, in the depths of her soul…Katerina Petrova _screamed._

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

I smile as I see the dawning horror on the woman's face. She rocks back slightly, before taking me in once again, taking in her state, and the state of her daughter positively _dripping_ onto the silk sheets below us as I roughly fuck her face with ruthless abandon.

She brought it upon herself, really. After the initial few days of fun, I'd given her a simple choice. Stick around for a while, let my witches build the tracker I needed from her blood so I'd be able to find Elena when the time for her birth came, maybe fuck around a little in the meantime, and everyone would be happy.

What does she does? She tries to seduce my guards into smuggling her a stake, and tries to kill me.

This is a creature that is treacherous not out of any need or conditioning, but out of _habit_. So she gets treated accordingly.

I allow her a bit of time, to reorganize her thoughts, to that _fire_ reassert itself, and the plans that no doubt come with it, before I ask. "Tell me, Katherine. What do you feel now?"

"I feel…helpless. I feel there is no point to trying and escaping you. And really, this is not so bad. You have even reunited me with my daughter. I feel I could settle into this, even for the long term."

"And you…do not…feel like I've done an injustice by turning you… your daughter…into my whore?" I ask her rather directly, timing each phrase with a particularly savage thrust into her daughter's throat.

"Honestly, no. I mean, the sex with you is _great_. Its one of the reasons why I can't ever imagine you as an enemy, or even as evil. You will always be the Master to me…"

"Huh. Will I?" I ask. I pause a bit here. Nadia's tricks…I rise up slightly, as I unload stream after stream of cum into the girl's mouth. As my flow starts to lessen, I pull out of her mouth entirely, leaving the last few spurts to hit her in the face, followed by her mother, who _almost_ tries to shirk, as it falls upon her breasts and chin. But of course, the compulsion holds her steady.

"Well, then. Let's try that again, shall we? This time with the truth."

Immediately, _terror_ blossoms like a wondrous flower on that beautiful face. "Please, Master. Don't make me? Please?"

"Katerina? Am I going to have to ask twice?"

"I…I truly feel helpless. When you first compelled me, I felt that I could wait you out. That one day your attention would waver and I would be able to free myself. But now… over a century has passed, and you still cover all eventualities. And worse than that is the sheer _pleasure_. I dread the thought of a month without your touch, without an orgasm brought on by you…I feel like you have destroyed what I was. You have unmade me. Even the petty deceptions like what I attempted are only so I can feel some of the old _fun_ again…"

"That should be quite enough. Well, Katerina…I think you would be glad to know, the game is about to change. Not today, but in a few years…well, we'll let you find out then, shall we?"

Her face is a mask of sheer fear and horror, when she replies "Of course, Master."

"Well then, why don't you forget all about this?"

As the fear and horror fades from her face and the lust and sultry looks she was sporting reassert themselves, I very carefully look away from her, to make sure there isn't any compulsion, before continuing "And now clean me out of your daughter's quim with your tongue, why don't you? And don't be naughty. Swallow."

As she delightedly descends between her daughter's legs, I ready her ass.

It's a fun life I lead.

Of course, it's when I think that that the knocks on the door begin.

"What?" I ask through.

"Forgive me, lordship. But the observers on the Gilberts just reported in."

And all of a sudden, everything else in the world suddenly becomes irrelevant.

"Yes?"

"It's a girl."

"Right. Inform them to make the preparations. I will be arriving in the town by tomorrow."

"Yes, my lord."

"And get me a line to the Klaus team."

"At once, majesty." The sound concludes.

I get back to my debauchery. I mean, it'd be an awful shame to waste it now, wouldn't it?

But this…well, let's just say things just got _interesting._

XXXXXXXXXXXX

 **The Next Day**

The town of Mystic Falls was a small, sleepy one. But all sleepy, small towns have their mysteries, and so did this one. In this case it was about a house. It was a mansion, really, a sprawling estate secluded away deep into the woods at the edge of the town, connected only by a single, solitary road that led to the mansion and nowhere else.

Rumours abounded about it, as is there wont. They were the usual ones...there had been a murder, it was haunted by an angry spirit, smugglers and criminals used it…all the usual stories rural people tend to come up with about huge empty buildings.

The strange thing was that just about all of them were true. But that's neither here nor there. Because that day it didn't look abandoned and empty at all. Lights shone out of every window. The exterior had been scrubbed and cleaned until the white stone gleamed. The driveway, that had only yesterday been half full of overgrown shrubbery and wilderness had been cleared completely, pleasant lights shone at regular intervals. It was a house redefined.

In the driveway was a series of cars, and people could be seen here and there throughout the place. There was a party going on, it seemed.

"Is everything prepared?"

"Yes, Lord Raoul."

"Good. The Great One should be arriving anytime now, and everything must be utterly perfect for his visit. Have yout checked on the Gilberts?"

"Still in place. No change, really."

"Good. Losing this one is…not an option."

"Who is she anyway?"

"No idea. But the orders came directly from the Great One. We watch, every second, everywhere. And we provide complete protection."

"I understand"

"I'll check on the witches now, they should be done locking in the Prisoner."

 **XXXXXXX**

"So, my disciple? Is it confirmed?"

Raoul shivered at the voice. He knew the meaning of it, the infinite power of the man behind it. It was still, difficult, in a way, to think back to that day so long ago when he'd been turned…

"Yes, lord. It is done. I have verified it with the tracking charm we were provided, and the babe is the girl you're looking for. The witches have looked her over and confirmed also the same."

"I see. Very well. You may resume your station. Make sure there are no traces of your presence left behind."

"Yes, lordship."

And that was that.

The Ancient relaxed as the call was disconnected, confident that he had pleased the Great One. It was done, then. He didn't know what Neri's interest in the child was, and he didn't care. What he _did_ care about was how much the King had been checking up. And the testing ritual. Seven rounds of tests, testing the girl's future, her blood, her power, all of them coming up as positive…he shuddered to think of the rage of his master had he failed.

But he hadn't, and it was all back to the old stations now. And that was something Raoul was more than a little glad for. This place…it had the stink of fate about it. Staying about could have been dangerous.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

Over the next several years, the world changed, and it did so rapidly. It started with the signing of an eternal friendship alliance between Venezuala, Colombia and Brazil, one with actual teeth. This was followed with a series of powerful men suddenly taking an interest in this new arrangement, Americans and Europeans all gravitating around the South American countries, looking for opportunities to invest.

Opportunities that there were plenty of, as it turned out. The Brazilian government took the lead, and the other two followed. Incredible deals were offered. Prime land, tax breaks, permits, the works. That the cartels and gangs would stay off was promised, and over the course of a few months, demonstrated.

And so the money poured in. First millions of dollars and then billions, it came flooding in, as factories and mills and plants mushroomed up throughout the place. The Cartels vanished virtually overnight, disappearing into the ether as most of their upper leaderships died all of a sudden.

And yet, it was a _steady_ thing. Things were not just being _done_. They were being _built_. Venezuelan oil, long since a giant, wasted gift, started to be cleaned up, actually _directed_ , with proper, state-of-the-art equipment, support going into it, companies working steadily and carefully to prevent the Dutch disease. It was mostly American money coming in through Brazilian intermediaries, Brazilian companies…

Talks began of a pipeline stretching downwards from Venezuela, to feed the rapidly growing needs of the South American nations.

It was all scattered across in a thousand and one pieces, being worked at through a million people, but even still, a great directing hand could be felt by those with the eyes to see, guiding and coordinating, pulling money from places and routing it into others, building up the political structures in the place, seemingly setting it all up for _something_ , putting in pieces and puppet strings.

Talks were starting, in hushed voices and with furtive looks thrown around, cautious people sounding others out, Analysts and Experts, people who had literally ate and drank this stuff for their whole lives. They were the best of the best, because it took men of that calibre to even notice it, people who were consulted by and listened to by great political figures and powerful businessmen.

And then, of course, the analysts and observers who noticed any of it forgot all about it.

Such is the power of compulsion.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**

"Where did you find him?"

"Europe, lordship."

"Looking for Elena, I'd presume?"

"That would be right."

"Well, Andrea, well done! You may take your rest. I have something to give you."

"My lord, I am still-"

"Rest, princess. We talk later."

"Of course, Lord Neri."

As the sound of the werewolf's steps faded, Rebekah stepped out of the library. She'd never expected to develop such an interest in magic, but there was something about how Neri and his servants presented it that inflamed her mind, aroused her curiosity. She'd spent most of the past decades that she had been hiding from Klaus from in study, growing in knowledge at a pace that while her nature as a vampire might have made her incapable to wield it, she was very much Esther's daughter when it came to learning magic.

It had been as much a refuge as anything, the cold, steady act of reading doing much to soothe her nerves as Klaus's rage flashed in her mind over and over again. But Neri had taken her in, protected and sheltered her. It had been his idea she start it, as something to occupy herself with, all those years ago.

"Hey, girl. Come on in." Neri smiled at her, a smile that set her heart aflutter.

Ah yes. That was her _other_ problem. Apart from being in fear of her life from one of her brothers, she had fallen deeply, inescapably in lust for the _other_ one.

She couldn't even tell how it happened. One day he was Neri, and then, as time passed…she began to _notice_ things. How he smelled, the rich, woody smell that spoke of the forest and fire, how he spoke, a weight of authority that could come and go at will, how he walked…everything. It'd all gone bad to worse from there.

And worst of all, she couldn't even be sure that he didn't already know. Like…this was Rio, and he was Neri. _Nothing_ happened here that he didn't know about. For him to not noticed her sneaking glances at him, bullying stories out of his toys and then making them forget, and fingering herself to thoughts of him in her chambers…

Actually, him knowing wasn't the worst of it. That was the question of whether or not he would care. Because after all this time, she _knew_ Neri. She knew just _how_ little he cared about any taboos or limits.

"Hello? Anyone there?" Neri was calling louder now, breaking her reverie.

In the barest fraction of a second, she was seated down, a bottle of whisky that had been two rooms away already on the table next to her, poured out glass in her hand.

"Yes, brother?"

"I was asking, Rebekah, if you had given more thought to your feeling"- wait, he knew? He was going to send her away! He was going to invite her to his bed! Both! No, how could it be both _-_ "regarding what I intend for Niklaus."

Oh.

Rebekah hesitated.

Klaus…Klaus was a complicated issue for her. Her brother, turned her tormentor...she wanted to fight for him. That was what she had been taught by her parents, what she had sworn that day in the woods.

But that was not what a millennium with her brothers had taught her.

She remembered it all, in painful, perfect detail. All of those years, all of those instances when he had taken the slightest, gentlest of her gestures and turned it into a debacle, all the times he had stabbed her with the dagger and tossed her into a coffin for a few decades.

No, this was for the best. Let _him_ know oblivion for a change. Let him _suffer._

And yet…was not he the one who had always protected her, shielded her from the consequences of her own options?

They _had_ said it, hadn't they? Always and forever. That _meant_ something.

Or did it?

It all rushed at her, drowning her in her thoughts as she tried to rationalise it. She knew Neri cared about her opinion, knew he might even stay his hand at her word, the only person in the world he would do it for.

It was a heady feeling, the power of such a thing. She could change Neri Malach's mind. She could ask the greatest, most unreasonable things, she could defy him and scream at him, and he would only smile, with an indulging "little girl…" and move heaven and hell to satisfy her whims.

It was a power she had used very, very sparingly, for she knew not how long it would last. But this…could she be honest with herself and say she wanted Klaus to be spared, knowing that it would likely mean a tremendous amount of complications in Neri's plans?

Oh he would win, she didn't doubt _that_. Over the years she had spent with Neri, she had come to realize just how much her other brother's superior the man was, but it would still irk him.

And, no. She could not do it. She could not infringe upon her brother like that, could not make him spare Niklaus.

Steeling her heart, she looked him in the eye. And then she moved her head, slightly and deliberately, in a firm _no_.

He raised his eyebrow once. _Are you sure._

She hung her head, but then nodded once. _Yes._

And that was enough.

 **XXXXXXXXXXX**

Well! That was surprising. Rebekah giving up on Niklaus? I hadn't ever thought the day would come. Not that I'd tested it in the past, of course. Testing such things tends to have the effect of strengthening them…but I'd had hints dropped around her, given her cause to remember him…let's say not fondly, recorded her reactions and analysed them, all of which had allowed me to develop quite an extensive understanding of her feelings on the subject without ever having to come out and ask.

And yet I hadn't been sure. And with her being one of the few people in the world who I both care for and can pose a threat to me if she wants to, I really wanted to be sure.

But now, well…

Hang on, what is that…

Hell. She's crying.

Now, I'm not a nice guy. Hell, I'm downright _evil_ by most standards. And there's reasons for that. This jump has been all about me indulging the wildest, most depraved fantasies my mind can conjure up, denying myself nothing whatsoever. But even through all that, or hell, even as a part of that; I had no little sister ever before, there's something about the thought of my little sister crying that sets me off.

In a second, I have my arms around her. "Hush, little girl. I know it hurts to let go and accept things, but you know it is for the best, don't you?"

There is no response. I kinda didn't expect any, so I just keep her company for a while. It's important she feels able to let it go, because if she decided to stop me…well, I don't want to kill her. Or dagger her for that matter.

Me, I'd decided Klaus needed to die ages ago, all the way back _before_ the jump even, when I took that drawback. But even despite all that, I still entertained notions of leaving him alive, perhaps trying to be a family again. It cannot be, of course, but it would've been worth a try was what I'd thought at the time. So I can't really blame her for the same, can I?

I continue with the hug, trying to calm her down. Over the course of the last millennium, my powers, even restrained, have grown to the extent that I'm more than a little bit psychic now, and that's in addition to her being the same. So I can actually _feel_ her sadness and pain as it emanates out of her, invading my mind with small flashes, some pleasant, most unpleasant, of Klaus.

Until I don't.

I take a step back from her, at that. What did she just do? Her emotional output just disap…peared.

Oh hell no. I didn't even know Originals could _do_ that!

But as Rebekah's face goes from a pain-and-sadness filled mess to a saucy grin with her eyes practically starting to _smoke_ , I realize that yes, they can, and she just _did_ just flick her emotional switch off.

Well now, this is interesting. I know about her little crush, of course. This is _Rio_. If I want I can get detailed report about which _insect_ is mating with which one, let alone what my only sister is thinking. But she'd never had the exactly right mix of courage, depravity and foolhardiness to go through with it.

Now, though, is a different matter. If I was a different man, I'd think of things like morals, propriety, limits, about taking advantage of a vulnerable young woman.

Except, well… come on.

I'm _me_.

 **XXXXXXXXXX**


	5. Chapter 5

**2009  
Mystic Falls**

"Status check on all Priority 1 cases?"

"Completed, Lord Neri. All cases green. Except…"

"Yes? Speak."

"Your father awoke again."

"Since you said the status was green…continue."

"He didn't get out, but he did the usual 'screaming abuse and ranting' routine, sir. And he banged on the walls of the coffin some."

"Good on him. We still have him covered in Ash, right?"

"We do, lord."

"Well then. Double the amount, just in case. Seal everything up, and destroy all pathways to the chamber. We'll dig them out again when the time comes."

"As you will."

"What of my brothers?"

"We arranged for Elijah to acquire a few hints as to the location of the doppelganger through that pitiful mimicry of his."

"Relax, my child. The Strix will get their due when the time comes. Focus. They approach, then?"

"They do, lord."

"Excellent. And Elijah does believe that Klaus has thrown all their siblings in the ocean?"

"Indeed, lord. Including Lady Rebekah, who Elijah is especially displeased about."

"I imagine he would be." Rebekah had only gone back a few years ago, having reactivated her emotions one day out of the blue and having found the decade of incestuous and sinful fun too much to bear. She'd begged for a mind wipe, and my Witches had been only too willing to oblige.

"Well then, go ahead with your duties. I will expect a more detailed report in the evening, as usual."

"Of course, Great One."

And now I must leave my house. I have a class to take.

The drive from my mansion to the school is entirely uneventful, except for the odd greeting the people toss me here and there. They love me, after all. My persona is an obscenely wealthy dot com multimillionaire who made his fortune at an age most are planning frat parties, and moreover, had the sense to get out at the very peak of the bubble while everyone else crashed into dust around him. Having then 'retired from the hubbub', I have done quite a bit for the town, I dare say.

Giving generously to charity, always having time and gifts for everyone, helping people out with loans and favours, willing to pull strings, and even teaching modern history and economics pro bono at the school.

Speaking of which, it's quite the institution now, to be honest. A series of generous donations, couched with suggestions, and it has expanded massively, instituting a series of truly extensive programs. Mythology, Modern History, you name it, and there's probably a class for it. For reasons that don't need explaining (Nordic good looks, charisma honed and perfected over a millennium), _my_ classes are ridiculously popular. Especially among the girls!

All in all, I'm quite the solid pillar of community! I mean, it's months before canon eve starts!

I imagine they would love me lesser if they knew of the 'extra classes' with the prettier girls, their parents, other teachers…make it 'everyone female who is even remotely attractive'. Or about the systematic poisoning of vervain that I've executed in this, last haven of the plant. Or the steady suborning of the Bennett coven…and y'know, the usual 'Millennium Old Evil Elder Vampire' things. But they don't.

And hey, in my exposition, _ahem,_ thinking deeply, I even reached the school! How's that for scene transition expert driving?

Once the car is parked, it's a matter of minutes to make it to class. I like to time it just so I can go straight to the class, instead of sticking around being forced to socialize.

So, let's see. Today's lesson, oh, yeah! This is the modern history class I bullied the school into instituting. And today covers South America! I feel oddly confident about this particular class. I mean, I _made_ the recent history of South America,

In a few minutes, the last stragglers have arrived, the bell has rung, and the class is underway. I make an effort to keep my eyes _off_ of Elena. Not that it's difficult, she's still having her, well, disgustingly 'sweet' interactions with the Donovan loser whose sister does that twist thing… Ah yes, Mat. That was the name.

I spend a few moments imagining Elena and Katherine together, that tight, lithe body coupled with her innocence and inexperience, mirrored with Kat's intimate, finely seasoned maturity…but no. Hands off until the ritual it is. And anyway, I sent Katherine away to play her part in the drama to come.

The class passes by surprisingly quickly once I get on a roll. It's fun, hashing out things I don't just _know_ , but _did_ , going over their implications with fresh minds…my disciples are all ancient, wise and incredibly skilled, but there is something to be said for the opinions of the proverbial 'five year old'.

"…and so Brazil voted almost unanimously in the referendum to retain the ruling party, which, as a reminder, had been in power for thirty seven years already. What does this teach you? Anyone?"

"Some people never learn?" that would be one of our resident smartasses.

"Succinctly put, Mr. Lockwood. Entirely wrong, but succinct."

Ooh, frown!

"What I was going for was that just because a political entity _seems_ one way to you, it doesn't necessarily mean that it appears that way to the local people too."

"But there is no real debate there, is it? Brazil is a dictatorship. Always has been."

"And yet the referendum I just mentioned was overseen by the UN."

If he has any response it never comes up, as a bell signals the end of the class. As the students file out I take the time to shamelessly ogle each ass.

Then I'm out of there. This is my only class for morning today, and I do have things to do. Now that the brothers are here right on time and things are moving, I have updates to send out to the Court at large, more reports to go through…

My Organization has grown to cover Both Americas, All of Europe and Africa, and the vast bulk of Asia by now. Granted, in Asia and Africa I'm far from the only game in town so far, but Europe is just as tightly held as the Americas, the two world wars having allowed us to just destroy the existing organizations wholesale and remake them around ourselves.

All of that generates a truly humongous amount of work, and while I have perfectly capable people who take care of the vast, vast bulk of it, there's still several decisions only I can make. And besides, staying on the ball is much preferred anyway.

And so much of the day passes. There are quite a few concerns that needed taking care of even now, truth be told, especially as we've been moving much more openly the last several years, but it's a credit to the smoothness of my organization that it only ever takes a few hours out of my day to deal with all of it.

On the mundane side of things, we're still concentrating on building up the nations into a single entity that would be an economic and military powerhouse comparable to if not superior than the US, a task made easier through the aid of out puppets in the US itself, I'll say that much.

On the magical side of things, however, a lot of fun things are happening. Due to the sheer variety and depth of magic we can't really move against the established, entrenched covens like Gemini in open war, but that's where our 'wait patiently' strategy works out. Plans have been in play for centuries now, random misfortunes, magic accidents, unwise conflicts having sapped their strength, to the extent that the coven's influence and control over its territory is practically at the verge of collapse, with only the alliance they have with us propping them up.

Which is exactly as I like it. It keeps them in a nice, tribute-offering mood.

Of course, the Gemini coven is far away and mostly irrelevant for now. Right now I need to look at what has come up far closer to home. The Salvatore brothers are here, and I don't think it will be long before they start turning the place upside down trying to bust open the tomb.

Hm…not acceptable. Tanner is an ass, but he grows on you. And I certainly don't intend to let Vicki be turned and killed, I like her!

"Karl?"

My assistant is at my side in an instant, having heard me perfectly from the library three rooms down, where he…ah, he was most likely preparing the summarisations from the Japan reports.

"Yes, master?"

"Give me an update on the elder Salvatore, will you?"

"He's only just arrived, sire. No deaths so far."

"Hm. I've decided he's not to be allowed _any_ deaths."

"Very good, sir. Should I have him picked up?"

"No. I'll take care of it myself."

"Of course, lordship."

XXXXXXXXXXXX

 **May 23, 2009**

I watch as Elena is compelled to forget her meeting with Damon. I could have interfered…but what would be the point?

As he disappears, I move. A brief burst of speed, and I'm standing in front of him.

"Hi, Damon."

He freezes.

To his credit, he recovers admirably "Do I know you?"

"Probably not. Don't worry, I _do_ know _you_."

"You do?"

"Yep. Now, look me in the eye."

Before the boy can think twice towards this, I've already got him looking "For the whole duration of your stay here, you will never drink directly from a human. You will arrange blood bags and drink from them, or you will manage with animals. You will not kill anyone deliberately. You will believe you are doing things this way as you want to lay low and go unnoticed. You will not remember this compulsion, or me."

I wait for a second or so to make sure that the magic is settling in…and then I'm off.

That's most of season 1's plot prevented right there, and as for the rest, well, it already wasn't going to happen.

And so time passed.

Elena's parents died in the car crash, mostly because I hadn't cared enough to save them. Jenna Sommers came, to be the Gilberts' guardian. Then we met. Then she came again, and again, and again.

Logan Fell came back and died, going entirely unnoticed. The teenage romance continued as far as I could tell, I really couldn't bring myself to care.

The tomb _was_ eventually opened, because a few of Fell's antics, along with the names Damon and Stefan Salvatore had been enough to draw the council's attention. A few of them died, I didn't really notice.

Indeed, my attention was only tangentially focused on the local affairs these days. There had been _so_ fucking much to setup before I finally, finally got rid of this pesky curse!

Which was why the message that Elijah had been seen in North America (yes, Kms, not miles. I'm an evil Vampire, not a _barbarian_ ) was the first thing that _really_ brought my attention back to the continent in question, away from making things _just_ ready in the south, pursuing my war against the Indian Witches, and the million and one other calls upon my time.

After that it's only a matter of time that I receive the news: Elena has been taken by the two lost lambs running from my brothers' justice.

That was eight hours ago.

And that brings me to now. I do believe it's time we spawn of Esther had a reunion.

Receiving hourly reports from my minions watching the place, I know exactly when Elijah arrives at the address Rose gave him. He inspects the place, the surrounding, from top to bottom for a trap, making me glad I pulled back the physical troops hours ago; not like the idiots would have let any harm come to the Precious Cargo anyway; and steps in.

I've kept a mile away just waiting for this, and now it's time to move.

As Rose and Elijah talk, I move to cover the distance.

And I arrive at the place a few minutes later, just as Elijah starts to 'forgive' Trevor.

That's my cue to enter the location.

I take some care to time it just right. As Elijah's hand cleaves the hapless vamp's neck apart, I speed through the door, timing it so the first thing my brother sees as her finishes his turn, is me.

And I must say, the look of utter _shock_ on his face is probably more fun than I should be having.

"N-Neri?"

"Yes" I say, curtly.

"What…what are you doing here?"

"Shouldn't _I_ be asking that question? This is my world, brother. My kingdom. You come here, uninvited, as an interloper. Your creatures here steal my doppleganger. And yet you ask what I am doing here?"

He has the grace to get flustered at that. I suppose that's saying something.

"You know very well why I have come, Neri."

"Do I? From what I can see, you've come to steal my doppelganger and condemn me to another eternity of the curse."

"No, brother. I have come so I may use the doppelganger to trap Klaus, and punish him for his deeds."

"And what deeds would those be?"

"You…do not know?"

"Elijah…when Rebekah left to go back to you after spending those wonderful years with me, she asked that I not do it. And you know I could never refuse the little girl anything."

"You do not know, then, that Rebekah is forever lost to us? Klaus has daggered her and tossed her into the ocean, along with all our other siblings."

And here I allow my anger to come through. And really, it's not hard at all. I may be aware that she's not really lost, but the fact remains that Rebekah has spent the last several years, ever since she went back, daggered in a coffin as Klaus punished her for 'abandoning' him.

And so I let my rage, my _hate_ come through " _Has_ he, now?"

Elijah nods.

"Yes, brother. He has killed them, and for that I shall destroy him, whether you stand with me or not, but I would much prefer to have you with me, regardless."

"And you will…brother."

I turn my back at his gawking stare. And I know why. Ever since that night in the wood a millennium ago, I have never called anyone other than Klaus that. For Elijah to be granted that title, it's a big gesture.

"I will say this much. I have observed Niklaus's actions. Not directly for the last several years on Rebekah's request, but even so, the impact of his deeds has been clear enough. And it is clear enough that I was wrong and Mikael was right. He is an animal. A savage, bloodthirsty monster that deserves nothing more than to be put down utterly without mercy before it harms the world further. All that stayed my hand was the fact that he is my brother, but if he has done this then he has forsaken even that protection."

All the shocked Original did in response was to nod. It is not difficult to deduce the reason for the shock. All our lives I have treated him as the interloper and Niklaus as my brother, as is right and proper, choosing a true brother against a half brother. So this, the complete denouncement of Klaus and embracing him as my brother comes, quite understandably, as a bolt from heaven.

But he will understand. He will think on the matter, and realize that the likely reason for this was in actuality Rebekah, and the fate Nikalus has allegedly visited upon her. That will, if I have read him correctly at all, be enough to explain away my sudden animosity.

Because if we come to the truth, there is little that is 'sudden' about this animosity. I _never_ liked Klaus, except when we had a TV screen and uncountable cosmic distances between us. Now, faced with the rabid, unthinking psychopath that is Ansel's second born, I have no compunctions about decreeing his end at all.

Which reminds me, I need to get to it.

"So, brother? Shall we begin?"

"Begin what?"

"Laying out the plan that is needed to destroy him."

"Y…yes, yes of course."

"Good. I believe you intend to allow him to begin the ritual, sacrifice this pretty little thing here?"

"I will not ask how you know that. Yes, I do."

"Well, brother, that won't do!"

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I like Elena here, and I do not intend to let her be sacrificed like that!"

I make sure my back is turned to Katerina when I look Elijah in the eye. I wink."

He nods imperceptibly.

"Well then, let's talk somewhere more comfortable."

I turn towards the only human in the room. In a second, I'm standing next to her. The vervain necklace comes off easily, and I slip on a different, identical locket on immediately. This one, quite obviously, lacks the vervain.

"Elena dear, look me in the eye, will you?"

That snaps the girl out of whatever shock she's in. "Mr. Monroe! What are you _doing_ here? Who are you?"

"Tch. Such annoying questions. Just look me in the eye, girl."

And used as she is to obeying my commands, the girl does.

"You did not see me. You did not hear me. Elijah kill one of your abductors, and nothing else happened."

The girl just stares blankly as the compulsion does its work.

As I consider adding anything more to this, there is the sudden sound of something breaking.

With my attention drawn towards it, I break off the eye contact. Immediately, the girl staggers a bit, before recovering "How did you do that?" she asks, fingering her locket.

I smirk. "Vervain doesn't always work." I lie.

Elijah turns to Rose "What is that?"

"I don't know."

"Who else is in this house?"

"I don't know!"

"Peace, brother. What does it matter who else is in this house? We are two originals here."

Elijah relaxes here. It is now that I realize something. I'd wondered, watching this scene later. Why was he so worried? Why had he been unable to handle two measly babies?

The answer stares me in the face. Elijah is _exhausted_. Not physically, that doesn't _happen_ , but mentally. He is at the absolute end of his tether. He's a creature of familiarity and family, and all of that has been stripped from him for the last few years. He's angry and afraid and just plain _tired_ , and feels all of that all the more for being an Original.

So the simple fact of having even me, one of his most estranged family around him is relaxing to him to an extent that it practically _pours_ from him.

Which makes it all the more annoying when a stake spears through his arm.

I see the second one coming even as I turn. I catch it midair, and toss it back where it came from. The sound of it jamming up the launching tube is, I must say, quite pleasing.

"Saltzman won't like that, Stefan. You've broken his gun." I cry out, deliberately being as mocking as possible.

I don't get a response. Didn't expect one, to be fair.

"Come on now, did you really think it would be this easy? Don't tell me Katerina never spoke to either of you of the Originals. You sought to stand against Elijah Mikaelson today, boys!" I continue. Elijah shoots me an inquisitive look. "Patience, brother" I murmur so low that only he can hear. I get a nod in response.

We continue to move through the house, daring them to come at us. Coming down the staircase, I catch another stake, this one thrown manually. I consider throwing it back into Damon's chest. Nah.

Eventually, a few minutes later when we're already at the door, with Elijah wielding a makeshift stake and me pulling along Elena, I hear the displacement of air that indicates a vampire approaching at full speed.

It's Damon, game face on, bared machete aimed at the hand holding Elena. I catch the blade with my free arm, and use the hilt to snap his neck. While Elijah is looking at me, Stefan tries to rush him. Elijah catches the stake, and is about to drive it into the boy's chest when I stop him. The boys are part of my Plan and I tell him as much.

And that's how our reunion goes.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

My plan to kill Klaus has one advantage over Elijah's. It's almost infinitely simpler. No waiting until he's almost done with the ritual, no sacrificing the girl, none of that. Just wait for him to show up, and ambush him with a white oak stake.

My brother is shocked at _that_ , that I have the stakes.

"How?"

"Well, it's a tale about a tree with its whole _thing_ being rebirth and eternity, and a bridge…but frankly speaking, it's for me to know and you to find out. Only, y'know, _not_.

"In any case, that work?"

"Yes, I must say, if you have White Oak, things become much simpler."

"Good. Now, there _is_ another matter. We will need to perform a ritual. Specifically, a ritual to break his Sire Line."

"Ah. But why?"

"Well, I like a few vampires on that line."

"Fine. I presume you already know what is needed, and have gathered it all too?"

"Of course."

"When do you mean to do it, then?"

"Well, we need to get him here, first. Once we have him, only then can we proceed with the needed steps. It will be a close run thing, I dare say. With both of us together, we should be able to take him down, but you know Niklaus. He won't make it easy."

"Of course. Still, if that is so, then much needs to be done. I'll be seeing you, brother."

"Wait, Elijah. Where are you going?"

"I have preparations of my own to make. People to talk to, arrangements to finalize. Let me know when you are ready to make the move. I know you have a way to contact me"

"Of course. Farewell, brother. We'll meet again when the time is right."

And that's Elijah gone. Y'know…I still don't know what to think of the guy. He's my elder brother, he's one of my siblings who's _not_ an asshole, but still, I just can't bring myself to _like_ him.

But that's something to be dealt with another day. I have a brother to rip out the heart of. The sire line delinking spell requires the heart of an unsired vampire, and I have just the one in mind.

I mean, come on. You didn't _really_ think I don't know where they are, did you?

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

And so we settle in. There's a lot to do, and not a lot of time to do it in. Elena will remain eligible for the ritual only when she is the exact age as Tatia was, which the last month of her seventeenth year.

And so we wait. It isn't as if I suffer a lack of things to do.

And slowly but certainly, the months pass, and the time comes. Most of what would have happened is prevented entirely, of course. Katerina was the antagonist for this part in canon, and Katerina is mine. But that's no problem. Dull, boring and predictable is just how I like the most important event of my life to be.

But that's not how I like the _other_ parts of my life to be, which is what brings us to the here and now.

I let out a slight grunt as I empty myself into the woman below me, the intense pleasures having finally overcome my resolve. The spurts continue as I remove myself, the final few discharges melding into the mess on the floor as I turn over.

Meanwhile, Jenna just murmurs something incoherently. She hasn't been intelligible since her thirty-second orgasm three hours ago, to be honest.

I lay back, catching my breath. Been a while since I was in a marathon session like this. The last time had been…Rebekah. Fun times. But really, turning Jenna was one of the best decisions I made. I mean, she was slated to _die_. I mean, a combination of _perfect_ body and filthy, naughty mind like her is not allowed to fucking _die_ , y'know!

As the constant stimulation she was under ends and I roll off, Jenna Sommers slowly regains her mind.

" You win." She cries out first thing.

"Of course I do" I reply, not bothering to hide the smug. Why should I?

"You should be happy, though. This was the most fun I had in several years. And you enjoyed yourself too, no doubt."

"I doubt that anyone is left in Mystic falls that doesn't realize that I enjoyed myself."

That's right. She's a screamer.

"Nah. Magic soundproofing."

She whistles "Nice."

"Anyway, it was fun, Jenna, but I need to get moving. Plans to fulfil, people to kill, you know how it is."

"How typical. Done fucking, now you're just running off."

"And here I thought you liked the fucking."

This is cute; apparently she can still blush.

"Anyway, we'll talk later. I believe you'd appreciate the chance to rest."

"Yeah…" she says, already slumping back.

That's the note I leave her on.

But all the sex and fun aside, it really _is_ time.

A few days ago, my watchers on Elena noticed one of Klaus's servants observing her. I allowed them go back, and that does mean my brother can't be all that far.

I leave the house after an hour and a thorough cleaning, mind already full of the plans that have to be resolved.

Arriving at my mansion, I seek to enter…and then I feel it. The feeling of being watched.

"Welcome, brother." I call out.

"Am I, brother? Should I believe that?"

"Come now. What reason have I given you to be so distrusting?"

"How about consorting with Elijah behind my back, brother?"

"Come now. He's my brother too. He ventures into my territory, and what am I supposed to do, kick him out?"

Klaus doesn't respond, remaining impassive.

"And speaking of Elijah, he had a rather…interesting story to tell, brother."

"Oh, let me guess, a tale about how I murdered our siblings, daggered them and dumped them in the Ocean?"

"Well, yes. Are you saying you didn't?"

"I didn't say that. I most definitely _did_. But what do _you_ care?"

"I might not have, had you not also done it to Rebekah."

"Oh, so this is about her? You know, there were indications as to what sort of brotherly relations you had with her…"

I wave a hand "And? It was better than anything you had with her. But regardless, the fact remains. You murdered our siblings."

I make a tiny gesture with my left hand, hidden behind my body, where only the camera catches it. That's the 'go' sign.

Countdown's started. T minus 300 seconds.

"Yes, I did. But I ask again. What do _you_ care?"

"And _I_ say again, you also murdered my favourite sibling when you did that. The Little Girl wasn't to be harmed. Finn, Kol... I would not care if you burned them to ashes. Rebekah was my only sister, the only one of Mikael's spawn that had even a touch of humanity, and you threw her down into the ocean."

"Ah, here I was thinking _I_ was your favourite sibling." Klaus says, still irreverent. T minus 250 seconds.

"You might have been, if you were not such a stupid, arrogant little animal. You go to places, you run about and murder savagely, you make no allies and only enemies, you let yourself be ruled entirely by your own petty desires. And then you _whine_ about it. Why _would_ you be my favourite? Blood may be thicker than water, but there is a limit to even that."

"Careful how you speak, _brother._ Your words remind me of Mikael." Ooh, that made him _angry!_ I see the already extreme dislike he has been nurturing for me ever since losing the city I gave him to rule, and I see it curdle into _hate._ Good. T minus 130 seconds.

I reach out with my mind, just to check the preparations. 5 minutes was the _maximum_ estimate, after all. If they don't want me to have their hide, they should be in place already. And as my mind encounters others, I nod ever so slightly to myself.

Showtime

"You know, Nikalus. It could all have been forgiven. Everything could have turned out alright." I look him in the eye. The hate there changes just a bit, giving was to confusion, and more than a little anticipation.

"But you had to be you." I make a tiny gesture. The witches around the house _act_ , and Klaus slumps down, neck broken.

"Take him to the ritual room, and get him prepared."

The sire line-de-linking ritual is not a long one, but it has to be done carefully, and has very little tolerance for mistakes. But it hardly matters, as I just snap Klaus's neck over and over again every time he wakes up.

And then, after what seems like an eternity but is actually only a few minutes…it's done. Finn's heart serves as the heart of the un-sired vampire, and the witches capable of detecting it and noticing these things duly announce that the connection is broken. It's done.

A second later, my arm around his neck pulls him out of the water, and the White Oak is in his heart.

And as Niklaus Mikaelson struggles and thrashes, as flames start to spread from where the stake is buried, I let out a breath of relief that I never realized I was holding.

That, then, is that.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **April 28, 2010**

The evening was getting tenser.

A few days ago, people had started arriving into town, slowly at first but soon well into the hundreds. They arrived by bus or by a series of cars, and soon disappeared, appearing to all the world that they were just passing through.

In the meantime, the Mansion grew more and more secure.

Dozens of witches had been established there by now, the best and brightest of the Covens controlled by the Red Court. They had thrown up defences to reinforce and shore up the existing ones, turning the place into less of a house and more of a bunker. After then had been the guards. There had been guards earlier too, but there hadn't been one of them practically every few steps, constantly looking over and monitoring literally everything. Most of them were werewolves wearing rings with black stones on them, supervised quire often by Vampires.

And then there were _they_. The true size of the mansion had been opened up for them, all eleven of the underground floors were open for anyone other than the cleaning staff the first time since they'd been built, and the place _still_ felt chock-full.

They were everywhere, and not just the riffraff. They were some of the oldest and most powerful vampires in the world, each commanding thousands and ruling over cities and entire states. The entire upper Nobility of the Crimson Dynasty, the Aztec Pantheon, the Trinity Leaders…the names for the group they belonged to were many and varied, but it was the group that held and iron control over the majority of the supernatural communities across the globe.

They were men and women that could order assassinations at a whim, each controlled enough mortal puppets that they could start _wars_ just because they were bored. In their own lands, each of them was King.

And they had all come to see the ascension of their God.

As night descended, the time was here.

The forest clearing was full of people, and yet it was completely, utterly silent. It was a stadium of sorts built with a semicircle of steps around a central area. Each of the steps was filled with viewers, arranged in order of rank and trust. The closest, facing not the inside but the outside were the Seventeen. Seven Vampires, Seven Werewolves, and Three witches, they were the chosen among the chosen, the most trusted, the most loyal beyond anything else.

It was unnecessary. The mechanics of the sire bond and the compulsion each and every Court Vampire was under ever since their creation together meant that while there had been plenty of competition and jockeying for position, to the extent that even a few of the High Ones had been sent away into semi-permanent disgrace, turning on the Great One was less a matter of _wouldn't_ and was basically that they _couldn't_.

But regardless, it was his prerogative to retain a personal guard, and none would imagine begrudging him such a measure.

The witch presiding over the ritual was old, and had lived a life steeped in magic since she was seven. There dozens of witches across the world had been trained in all the specifics of the ritual, to the extent that any of them could have done is blindfolded, half mute and lacking both hands.

They knew, because that had been one of the tests.

She was the best witch of her generation, bar none, and so she had been chosen for the honour.

Close to her was the sacrificial fire, burning with only the purest of herbs and ingredients that were to be had on the planet.

And in the clearing were four circles of flame.

As the Witch smashed the moonstone into her fire and started her chanting, Elena Gilbert shivered slightly. She knew what was to come. But that didn't mean she had to like it. As she told herself it would be alright for the dozenth time, the being in the circle next to her stirred.

As he twitched, a blr sped across the clearing and was there. Neri Malach looked at his father, struggling to pull out the sacrificial dagger in his heart. He had to give it to the old man. Even desiccated, his covered in vervain and white oak ash, Mikael didn't stop fighting.

Soon, the spells being cast reached the appropriate parts where the sacrifice was to be performed. The first to go was the Werewolf. He was a big one, the last of the Guerrera werewolves from New Orleans. As the pain wracked through his body, the best tried to struggle and rise.

Neri let him, for a few seconds. Then, at a gesture from the witch, he moved. There wasn't much to be said after that. The werewolf's heart was out of his chest a second later, and in a few more seconds Neri had drained it dry and tossed it aside.

Then the bits about the sacrifice of the Vampire came. Neri took the white oak stake, and _moved_. Just as the stake was about to enter his heart, though…Mikael moved. His hand closed around Neri's, and his eyes opened.

"Abomination! You would sacrifice me?"

"Yes, I will. Don't bother resisting, Mikael. I have the strength of Five Originals coursing through me right now."

And because it was only in cheap stories that a tired, starved, beaten old man could resist a young, well rested young man channelling over three times his strength and ability, Neri snapped his father's hold, and his hand, with the other hand that _wasn't_ trapped, and proceeded to drive the dagger deep, deep down.

As the flames enveloped Mikael, Neri _felt_ his father's raw strength and ability pour into his through the stake, much as he had when Finn and Klaus had died. This rush was much greater, of course, as Mikael had been superior to even Klaus in his bound form.

And with two sacrifices done, he turned to the third. This particular circle of fire was much larger than the others, and that was for a reason. It held seven people, all of them female. They were dressed in robes of the purest white, and unlike Mikael and the Werewolf, each of them held nothing but absolute, rapturous adoration for him in their eyes.

As he looked at them, and as they, familiar with the ritual, heard the appropriate words, they moved as one. "We are honoured to die for you, great one." They spoke, before each of them, completely willingly, channelled every last trace of magic she had into her heart.

And as Neri stabbed his hand into the heart of the first of them, she looked at him with nothing but complete, slavish devotion.

But that was natural. They were the cream of the Court's breeding program over the centuries, each of them a result of the merging of the very finest Magical bloodlines in the world other than Esther's. Each of their ancestors for the past seven generations had been a Witch of the highest calibre, their conceptions, their births all monitored and timed to occur on cosmically important dates. All their lives and their parents' lives and their parents' parents' lives had been arranged specifically for this day. They had only ever eaten food that was charged with magic, only ever drank water and milk prepared and anointed as richly with magic as possible.

None of them had ever been outside her temple, none had even been exposed to media. None had even been given and reason to form earthly attachments at all. They had been, quite literally, bred solely to die here and now.

And thus, as Neri reached into her chest and ripped out her heart, each of the girls only smiled and said "I die for you, Master."

And as for Neri, as he drained heart after heart dry, as he felt the concentrated magic of seven of the most powerful witches in the world pour into him, he almost felt he would explode.

And then he, without needing and gesture or hint, reached Elena.

She looked at him. He looked at her.

She said "I'm not saying 'I die for you'"

He smiled.

And then the fangs sank into her neck, and he drained out every last drop of her blood.

As Elena Gilbert fell to the ground, a vampire sped in, and took her directly to where a full hospital setup was waiting for her. A full litre of vampire blood was rushed into her, followed by packet after packet of normal blood. But even as she began to heal, it was too late.

At the other side of Mystic Falls, John Gilbert, placed within a flaming circle of his own and covered in ritual marks, keeled over dead.

And as blood was pressed into her veins…Elena opened her eyes.

In the meantime, Neri had descended to his knees, and he felt the presence of the vast, _old_ part of his being return to him. He felt his immense pool of magic, and he felt it flex and grow frantically and desperately as it absorbed all the power rushing about him. He felt himself glow bright, even as the collective strength, speed and ability of Finn, Klaus and Mikael were permanently merged into his own. He felt the links to Elijah, Kol and Rebekah snap like a thread, as his disciples around them broke the sacrificial magic surrounding his siblings.

Dimly aware of the black robed numbers prostrating themselves before him much as had been done in the days of the God-Kings of old, days that were here again now, Neri felt the power within him rise and rise again, over and over again, feeling as if seeking to burst out of him any was possible. He felt it assimilate into him, felt his own pool grow, and then felt it all sink again. It raged and seared and _hurt_ , but he enjoyed it all.

And he was not the only one. Knelt as they were, their faces close to the ground, his Disciples felt the wave after wave of power, as they crashed into them, pushing them down, driving their faces into the soil. Despite that, it was the nature of the connection between them that they felt the power _into_ them also, energizing them and reinforcing the connections and spells that made them what they were, plunging each of them into a state of clarity and extreme _delight_.

It was a sugar high.

And so Neri screamed, as one after the other, he could _feel_ the bonds of his curse snap away, like spider webs against a freight train. It was a glorious feeling. When the first of his bones broke with a _snap_ under the light of the moon, _that_ , however, was not.

"Go, all of you" he said to his followers, his quite voice quite audible even over the chants and prayers they cried out.

"It won't be safe to be near me. Go, children. We meet in Rio."

They went.

Neri turned.

The mansion was already empty, the witches having been pulled back. Now they pooled their power again in a blocking spell, seeking to enclose a large chunk of the forest and separate it from the rest of the world through walls, as they had been commanded to by the man at the centre of the forest.

That night, the forest and the Mansion both burned, and the remains were torn apart, ripped and shattered, reduced to little more than blackened ground.

Neri was free.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

 **Epilogue**

With the curse of Sun and Moon broken, and his full power unrestrained and at his fingertips to bring forth wonders and nightmares as and when he would, there didn't remain much to constrain the Vampires of the Court, nor their master.

And so they acted. Forces worth three continents were roused, hundreds of witches, millions of vampires and werewolves, and as one, they moved to consolidate things all over the planet. The first move that they noticed thus was the Conversion, as the people knew it. Over the course of a few months, Hundreds of Werewolves across both Americas came together at Rio, to undergo the metamorphosis and arise as Immortals, as Hybrids bound to Neri.

This was the first major act, but much else also needed to be done, and so was. It was finally time to dispense with the charade of independent mortal leadership, but of course, it couldn't be done just like that. So they took their time.

Over the course of a decade, with a number of meetings and conferences and treaties, Nuclear Weapons were done away with entirely. Not just the weapons, but even the technology and ability to make them was dispensed with, and any research classified across the globe as a capital offense. And generous use of compulsion meant that those decrees were even worth something!

After Nukes, it was the environment. Neri intended to rule this world, and he intended to rule it long and well. So money poured into Environmental research, into developing cheap, clean energy, along with plenty of magic and compelling to, again, make it so work was actually done.

And in the meantime, things proceeded at a breakneck pace to consolidate and solidify their grip over the world. The UN was chosen as the tool for this. Meetings were held, conclaves extended, resolutions passed, and the organization's power grew and grew. It's mandate extended ever deeper, its influence extending until it had complete control over all international trade, indeed, _all_ international relations, and indeed, control over broad legislation in several cases.

Frankly speaking, Neri could have conquered and enslaved the mortals in a day, with the power of compulsion. Taking his time, making it slow and steady was just so he could have his fun with it. Just about any conspiracy theory that had ever been popular to a significant extent was made real. Several were contradictory, no one cared.

And so it ended. He had Two thousand years to spend, here in this world. Advances in Science, in Magic, once the very absolute best and brightest in the world; including those long dead; came together and shared all their advances, in Techno-Magic, development of new Immortality spells, editing and perfection of the existing ones, research into topics and arts that had long been forgiven…

The facts were simple. Neri was a deeply amoral, selfish man. He was also highly intelligent. So the world entering a prolonged Golden Age with him at the helm was quite natural. The usual factors that cause such societies to stagnate, decadence and petty jealousies and of course, competition from external forces, was entirely absent. Corruption was there, of course, but controlled easily when the man at the top could rip out your deepest, innermost secrets with a look and compel you to work honestly.

It wasn't a Utopia by any means, of course. The Magical Races formed the Ruling Class, with the ordinary mortals being little more than cattle until one of them did something worthy of elevating them into Vampire-hood, or was born with Magical Talent.

The only real shake-up of the social order came in the Thirty-four hundreds, when Neri, having continuously developed and evolved theories and having leveraged multiple schools of thought against each other, and pooling their resources, cracked the one trick that had eluded them. The Artificial creation of a Tribrid.

Of course, Neri had plenty of them through natural birth, but this was what he'd always wanted, to unify all the magical races into one, enjoying the fruit of immortality together. Once the process was figured out, they spent another century working out the kinks, before it was rolled out all across the globe.

It served as a great equalizer, finally ending the disparities and clashes, creating a homogenous race fully capable of _truly_ working together in all things.

Of course, it destroyed the last remnants of hope the non-talented mortals had, as all they were now was food.

But of course, that is the way of things.

And so it all ended. The journey that had begun millennia ago came to an end, and time froze completely across the universe, as Neri, shaper and creator, God and Devil, Monster and Master, departed it for the infinite beyond that was the Omniverse and the Chain.


End file.
